Meltemi
by LaMarwy
Summary: "You don't believe in the existence of other lives? That destiny can bind souls over thousands of years and make them meet again, suddenly, with a new purpose?" The woman stared, fully considering her words; then she frowned and shook her head no. / Femslash: •Artemisia/Gorgo•; Modern AU
1. Chapter 1 - Opening Night

_You don't believe in the existence of other lives? That destiny can bind souls over __thousands of years__ and make them meet again, __suddenly__,__ with a new purpose?_  
[Artemisia + Gorgo, modern AU]

Trailer for the fic: Artemisia x Gorgo || Modern AU || by syriana94

For any updates, follow my blog on Tumblr:_ mementomori-demimonde_

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The **Meltemi** is a dry and warm wind blowing into the Aegean area during summer, created by the collision between the high currents of the east-line Mediterranean and the low ones of the west-line coming from Turkey.

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Chapter One – Opening Night

It was her big occasion. Of course, it had been a misfortune that the chosen catering service had to call off their engagement because of expired food supply; obviously they couldn't have hundreds of guests with food poisoning on the opening night of the new wing of the British Museum, so they'd been forced to organize everything last minute and she, apparently, ended up to be the second best choice for the dessert section. She'd worked on the cake for two whole days, closing her shop completely in order to get the work done because that cake would be for five hundred guests and it wasn't something she commonly did in her small bakery at the end of the street. But, if things would have gone in the right direction, she would have earn a considerate amount of money, not to mention any future call.

She assured that the cake was in a safe and cool area and that the waiters who were supposed to bring it out were competent enough not to make it drop ruinously to the ground, then decided to check on the small samples of pastries and biscuits from her special selection. Everything seemed fine and, surprisingly enough, she wasn't feeling nervous.

Whoever had decided to hire her wasn't going to regret the decision: who else could've provided a full reproduction of a great, long, iron ship in fondant with hand-painted, edible canvas and, to support it, a massive wave made out of cake, enough for half thousand people? It just needed a little fixing on the edges, where she would have to put white colored cream to make it look like actual water and she would be done; she could finally go out in her staff uniform and enjoy a little the party herself, pretending to supervise her sweet section – not that it was needed.

She grabbed her tools and began to finalize her masterpiece. She was about to complete the work when she squeezed a little too much to get the remanent cream out and ended up spilling the content of her saccapoche on her black trouser, leaving the fabric with an angry white stain on the length of her thigh.

"Shit." She cursed under her breath and finished the job in a hurry. "It's done!" She called anxiously, eyeing the two boys who were supposed to take care of her cake from now on. It would be the grand finale of the party: in about half an hour the entirely edible ship would be out there and cut into pieces as her work of two whole days would end up into people's bellies.

It was sad, almost, but any cake was made to be eaten – she couldn't do much about that.

Once she was alone again in the back of her small, designated area, staring at her cake as it was getting carried away on a wheeled tray, she sighed aloud, trying to get rid of the unfortunate stain with no results. She needed to find a restroom and quickly or else she would've never got rid of that stain and her trousers would be ruined forever. After all, it was a fancy party in a fancy museum, they simply had to have a restroom equipped with soap and paper.

She bolted through the staff corridors, clueless about the right paths to follow and when she reached the last door, she took a deeper breath and braced herself for worst: as she pushed the handle and slipped into the crowded room, she shared quick smiles and kept her eyes low, trying desperately to find some signs that could lead her to a bathroom. Luckily, everyone seemed too caught up into their conversations or admiring the props to mind a simple staff member with a large stain of meringue on her pants.

She couldn't help but admire the glamour in that room, as she rushed through the labyrinth of corridors and exhibition areas. It was the closest she got to a gala in her whole life, only seeing similar things on TV or on the Net. It was exciting to actually be there, even as a staff member – and an important one too since she provided the cake.

When she finally spotted the restroom sign, her heart leaped. It was placed into a quiet area too, which wasn't a bad thing, after all: the continuous chatting of the guests was starting to give her a headache. She sighed and pushed open the door, not even bothering to check if there was someone already in waiting in line to get to the toilets; after all, she just needed some water. The woman rushed in, her eyes and hands already heading to the sinks in anticipation when she noticed that she wasn't, in fact, alone.

She stopped dead when she suddenly saw another woman in there, who had abruptly turned to face her as soon as she entered. She felt like she'd intruded a private space and, for some unknown reason, she didn't seem to be willing to move, step back or exiting the restroom and leaving pretending she saw nothing.

The woman seemed upset. Though wearing some expensive black evening dress and elaborate make-up and hairstyle, her whole body seemed tensed, her face crumpled up in fear, maybe even on the verge of tears. She could easily imagine her pacing up and down the small restroom for ages, before her arrival.

She frowned, feeling uncomfortable, an innate sense of protection building up within her for that stranger in distress.

"Are you alright?" She asked tentatively, suddenly forgetting all about her own little emergency. Of course, a stain on some pants faded compared to a real human crisis to solve.

The woman sniffled loudly, resuming her nervous pacing just to give the other her back. She then held her own elbows, bending slightly forward and she strove to control her own breathing.

"Yes, I am." She shakily replied.

The other couldn't help but notice the low cut of her dress, exposing most of her freckled skin and her long black nails and ringed fingers holding a thick pack of densely written cards. Surely, on any other occasion, that woman would look like the most refined dame but, she had to admit to herself, not quite right now.

"Cause you don't look alright." She insisted, trying to get closer to her through very slow and careful steps.

The woman still didn't seem intentioned to turn.

"People make me anxious." She answered straight away.

The other scoffed, a diverted smile creeping out of her lips: it was just a panic attack caused by nervousness. Considering the cards, probably the girl was asked to make a speech and she hated to talk in front of crowds, or people in general.

"Definitely a wise choice to work in a museum." She remarked. How could she deal with all the people coming and going into that place every day if she really hated to talk to them? She stretched her neck to peek at the small portion of the stranger's face that she was now offering. She was smiling. She was glad that she'd made that distressed woman laugh a little, it was something to be proud of. "I'm Jack, by the way." Of course, like everybody else before her, she gave a blank expression back. She liked to confuse people with her name, it was entraining, a little game of hers she liked to play on every occasion. "Stands for Jacklin." She explained with a smile.

The woman in front of her had seemed to have regained composure and she was finally looking a little more approachable and relaxed.

"Diana." She replied with the hint of a smile.

"And you work in the Greek wing of the Museum?" The other couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips soon after: it was the Latin name of the goddess Artemis. "That's really something."

The other looked somewhat outraged at first, then her lips bend up into a smirk as she tilted her head in sympathy; of course, she couldn't blame Jack for being right.

"Well, in the Persian one too, from now on. That is, if I can manage to make my speech." She sighed, turning fully to face the other woman, heading to the sinks and shuffling her notes under the clear light of the neons. "Oh, I'm a mess." She lamented, grimacing at her own reflection.

"You're fine." Jack replied, hardly concealing her impressed look for that woman was truly remarkable: she looked young and already working as a curator for two wings of the British Museum, despite her clear shyness; she must've been something alright.

She crossed her arms as she inspected the mirror herself. Diana's make-up was still on point and her hairstyle too. It was her expression that made her look absolutely terrified, like a lonely puppy on the roads. "How long before you have to go out there?"

Diana grabbed her wrist rather harshly and pulled it to her to read her watch.

"Twenty minutes." She replied with a choked sigh, returning her arm.

Jack studied her for a moment. She couldn't have helped noticing that her hands were shaking and her fingers had felt incredibly cold; if the girl was having a real panic attack, she couldn't just leave her there, alone. Maybe, on the other hand, she was just overreacting. In any case, she couldn't risk it having her on the conscience and perhaps just a small chat and a little encouragement could do the trick.

"It can't be that bad." She offered, leaning against the counter with the small of her back and looking at her as she fixed her already perfect red lipstick.

"I wish I could just get over with it and go home." Diana muttered under her breath, heaving a shaky sigh as her breathing still hadn't returned completely normal.

Jack stared a little longer. She really hadn't any experience with speeches and talking to crowds, since the closest things to that had been answering the teacher's questions in high school and she never had any problem with it; but yes, she could understand that for some people it could be unsettling, especially when a life's career was involved.

"Just imagine everybody naked." She said with a grimace, offering the first thing that came to mind. It was a bit of common advice to say in those situations, or at least she thought so.

"It never works." Diana winced back, shaking her head with a dubious purse of her lips.

"I supposed not." The other smirked, feeling a little low-spirited because she hadn't succeeded with being much of help, not at the moment anyway but perhaps... later. Maybe she could still be of use: whenever she was feeling down or nervous about something, focusing on something happy and good happening into a near future helped her a lot, all the better if it was something unexpected, and perhaps it could work with her too. "You know the bakery at the end of the street?"

Diana, once again, looked confused.

"What?" She frowned.

To be honest, that sentence could sound out of the blue.

"The bakery at the end of the street." She repeated with a smile and a soft shrug of her shoulders. "For when you're finished. I'll offer you a drink, a chat, whatever. If you think about that, maybe you won't stress much about your speech."

Diana gave her a blank expression for a moment. For how much she struggled to conceal it, a shy smile still managed to escape her lips.

"It's late already. I doubt it'll be open by then." She moved her shoulders, her blue eyes reverberating the unnatural light of the neon bulbs around the restroom mirror.

Jack bit her inner cheek, hardly suppressing a smirk of her own.

"I have my ways." She simply stated, leaning slightly toward the other woman while suggestively nibbling her bottom lip. She gave her a cheeky grin, her green eyes almost pleading, showing no signs of retreat unless Diana would've accepted.

The woman's smile was contagious, she had to give her that. Diana sighed and rolled her eyes with a diverted twitch of her nose.

"Alright." She finally conceded.

"Good." Chirped the other, feeling proud of herself. "So, it's settled." She stated, her voice determined as she backed up a bit, giving the other woman some space. "I'll be around," She started, but then frowned. "waiting for you-" She corrected, but that too was not correct and, frankly, it sounded pushy. "I'll be outside." She said at last, heaving a sigh. "I'll be outside the museum at the staff entrance to avoid the crowd."

"Alright." She said in a very light voice, offering a very shy smile too. "I'll better go, now."

"Yeah." Jack nodded, her heart hammering inside her chest; she suddenly felt her cheeks growing red and hoped that the neons would hide that embarrassing shade. It was not like her to be thrown off balance by some random girl. She continued smiling as Diana exited the bathroom ever-so-slowly, then, a second before leaving, she spun abruptly on her heels.

"Oh." She called, her own cheeks turning a darker shade of pink as her eyes dropped. "You have a stain on your pants." She said with a smirk, then left for good.

Jack stared at the swinging door until it stopped moving, the 'thanks' she was supposed to say still lingering on her lips, perhaps remaining forever unsaid.

🏛️

_It began as a whisper, a promise. It moved through her hair as gently as a lover's hand. And that breeze, that promise, became a wind; a wind that blew carrying a message told again and again. A wind of sacrifice, of freedom, of justice and vengeance._

As she got changed, her mind could only focus on the flickering memories of Diana. She could still hear her metallic voice, distorted by the microphone, echoing through the silent hall, her words relayed back, from table to table, guest to guest, until they reached her. She'd been charmed by her for whole time of her speech and although she couldn't understand half of the topics she was discussing – mostly founds and good investments that led the museum there –, her passionate words about the beauty of the relics and the collection which would be hosted in the new wing, and as she recited some of the inscriptions they'd translated, caught her completely, almost as if she was there herself, on those wooden ships as the Persian fleet sank into the Aegean.

Jack had felt a knot into her stomach as she'd heard those words and she hadn't been exactly sure if it had been the speech per se or it had been Diana, her voice and how her blue eyes had scanned the crowd, resting their anxious wandering only then she met hers or how, after that contact, she smiled back at her as she spoke. From that moment on, she had had eyes only for her.

The woman beamed to herself as she slipped on her casual outfit, which consisted in her favorite Iron Maiden shirt, worn out by time, her most comfy jeans and a simple leather jacket and sneakers; then, she unceremoniously shoved the stained uniform into her bag. Jack put it on her back, counterbalancing the thing by pulling down with her hand over her shoulder and she was ready to go outside. She offered curtsey smiles to the staff exiting the building with her and waited patiently, her neck stretched to peek around the corner, where thousands of flashes snapped as many photos as possible at the VIP guests in their expensive gowns as they walked down the stairs of the main entrance of the museum.

Jack let her mind wander freely, imagining when Diana would appear, how would she look now that she'd done her speech and only a relaxing, quiet night was ahead of her. The woman was feeling anxious: it had been so long since the last time she'd invited a woman to spend time with her so abruptly, without planning the even in details. She was a perfectionist – her job required precision – and yet she'd managed to invite that woman just for the sake of it because she wanted to give her a distraction. She didn't even think about what she was doing if not when it was too late. Maybe it had been a mistake, but she wasn't regretting making it. On the contrary, she was feeling quite excited and she was determined to follow her instinct; it was out of instinct that she'd asked her out, an innate driven force that brought words to her mouth. She just had to follow it.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she almost didn't realize that Diana had arrived, carefully jogging on her high heels as she desperately tried to avoid the cameras by shielding her face with her hands. After a little while, they got tired of her and left her alone.

Panting a little, the woman walked toward her, one hand lifting the dress so the edge wouldn't sweep off the sidewalk and the other grabbing a quilted pochette.

Jack couldn't suppress a smile, which she shyly returned.  
"You look stunning." She muttered, but her voice failed and it came out like a shaky breath.

The woman cleared her throat, pretending it didn't happen and rather focusing on Diana: she doubted she'd brought a change of clothes from home because she probably had planned to book a taxi and go home right after the event. Unluckily for her, Jack had decided to spoil her plans for the night and she was more than determined not to make her regret the decision of accepting her proposal.

"Thanks?" Diana replied with a doubtful smirk, her blue eyes scanning, for a moment, her casual attire.

Jack mimicked her action, her eyes following her sight.  
"We do look like a very bad assembled pairing." She admitted with a twitch of her nose. Anyone who laid eyes on them could only see a perfectly elegant woman strolling beside a stylish, but still stereotypical tomboy; embarrassing enough, Diana was taller than her but, for the moment, she could blame it on the heels.

"Like fries with honey?" Diana asked with a giggle, her eyes low on the street as they walked side by side.

Jack watched her with the corner of her eye.  
She always liked to play with food and tastes, even the weirdest one but that was new; it was rare that someone could take her by surprise, especially when it came down to food. And yet, the more she thought about the combination, the more sense it made. After all, sweet and salty had always worked divinely together.

When they arrived at the bakery, Jack was the one to lead the way. She stopped right in front of the closed shop and sighed dramatically at the gates that protected the exposition glass.

"I told you it would be closed." Diana sighed frustratedly, shifting rather uncomfortably her weight from one foot the other. It was then that Jack pulled out her keys, making them clink and blink at the distant light of the street-lights. "You're the cake girl?"

"I am." The other replied, hardly suppressing a little smirk. She hated being referred to as the cake girl but, on the other hand, it was the easiest way to describe a person who owns a bakery and makes pastry and cookies for a living. "Welcome to my kingdom."

The empty shop was so different than how it presented itself in the day. The soft white neons casting flickering light in the dark space, the continuous humming of the machines abusing the stillness that would've fallen without. Even then, Jack felt finally at home: that place was entirely hers, filled with things she loved, from the paintings on the walls to every creation she intended to sell, from the smallest to the largest.  
She was proud of it and she couldn't nor wanted to deny it.

"Please, take a seat." Jack offered, gesturing at the first table. In the past few months, she'd added a bunch of tables and purchased a professional coffee machine, which had turned her bakery into a little cafè, and her earnings had almost doubled. "I've never seen you around. Lots of people from the museum come here to have breakfast." She commented, dropping her bag somewhere behind the counter.

Soon after, she jumped over and disappeared beyond it.

"I never have breakfast." Diana muttered absentmindedly, all the while stretching her neck to see if she was still there, to no results.

"That's no good." Exclaimed Jack with a small frown, emerging from the counter and gingerly heading to what it seemed to be her lab. "Are you hungry?" She asked and, without waiting for her to answer, she disappeared again. Only the noises of her moving around the lab could be heard, as she moved around knocking down metallic things and cursed under her breath by herself.

Diana listened and giggled, her heart finally at ease as she acclimated. Usually, she was always nervous when she found herself alone in foreign places with people she didn't know and to be frank, it was a mystery why she accepted that invitation in the first place – it wasn't like her, not at all. But maybe it was the loneliness finally kicking in, pushing her to move and make some friends to escape that hollow shell that had become her life lately.

Jack looked like the perfect person to help her get back on the track, right now: she was confident, lively and a happy person in general while also being quite a lovely dork too. She made her laugh. She made her feel relaxed. It was the kind of person she needed.  
It was worth giving her a chance: she had to try to be more open; Diana owed it to herself.

She leaned back more conformably on her chair and waited for Jack to come back. When she did, the woman was carrying a couple of mismatched trays full of paper napkins wrapped around small pastries and cookies of all sort.

"These are some samples." She announced, putting the trays on the table and sitting in the empty chair opposite to Diana. "I'm experimenting with new flavors. Tell me what you think!" She proposed excitedly, her eyes shimmering like the ones of a child.

Diana couldn't stop smiling. It was so rare to encounter such genuine people and after all those years of working in museums and dealing with businessmen and careerists, she had lost faith in humanity, but then, again, fate had proved her wrong. As she ate with curiosity every new pastry, her mind raced helplessly to the evening, the beauty of the new wing, all the success and things they'd accomplished and the party to testify it. It had been a gorgeous opening night, even though the only part she really enjoyed was everything that had come after her speech. It was unbelievable how she was now sitting into an empty bakery eating sweets and talking to the very person who created such a wonderful cake for them: it had been the talk of the evening and quite rightly so.

"I haven't thanked you yet for the cake, it was spectacular." She said, nibbling at a fruit tart that had been accompanied with some weird dust she couldn't recognize.

Jack shook herself from her state of a daze as she stared at the woman, waiting for her to give her feedback on the new proposal. The cake she'd created for the museum was one of her biggest success, she knew that, but hearing from her lips, somehow, made it even better.

"Aspect or taste?" She asked while beaming, her cheeks hurting from the too much smiling.

"Both, of course." Promptly replied Diana, a half scandalized look on her face. It was beyond her how it could be possible to choose between such an incredible sculpture and its mind-blowing taste.

Jack sighed and crossed her arms, moving slowly her neck as she nibbled on a cookie herself. It was relaxing, she decided, to see her selecting the next sweet, her eyes scanning each pastry before bringing the chosen one to her lips.

They stood like that for a while, Diana trying to explain her thoughts about this or that creation, piling up those that not met her taste in one tray and arrange graciously the one she likes in the other.

Jack just kept staring at her, hardly believing that all that was really happening. It had bee a while since she'd had someone in her shop late at night and she could easily state that not one time that someone had been as refined and good looking as Diana; that woman didn't belong there and yet, surprisingly, she'd managed to melt with the surrounding environment. Her fake armor of glacial dame for everyone else had thawed out and now she was standing alone before her eyes, calm, relaxed and oh-so-fascinating.

People had always found easy to relate with her, but Diana had stripped her own cover away so quickly it was dazzling. Perhaps she could really hope for the best; she'd always thought that the most random encounters always turned out to be the most enthralling ones.

Jack found herself openly smiling and she was somewhat relieved that the other woman wasn't really paying much attention to her, otherwise, she would've to explain that casual smirk she'd had on her lips. But then her relief turned into something else when she noticed that Diana was wincing in what looked like some sort of discomfort.

"Is there something wrong?" She asked alarmed, fearing that some weird combination of her pastries could've caused troubles.

Diana heaved a sharp sigh and shook her head.  
"The stilettos are killing me." She simply said.

Jack sighed as well, at least she had avoided some ungrateful outcome.  
"You should take them off, then." She proposed with a shrug. The other threw her a quizzical glance, looking dubious. "It's only us and it's my shop, don't bother."

Diana studied her features for a long time before eventually getting rid of the shoes, which fell from her feet with little thuds. Instantly, she let out an eased sigh and her lids fell close.

Jack swallowed a lump in her throat, feeling her occasion was finally approaching. Her eyes were fixed on her, her heart thumping between her ribs, her mind going blank for a moment, telling her that it was now or never.

The woman rose up from her chair and, as if had its own will, her hand lifted gently to cup the other's cheek, her thumb pushing just below the chin to force her head to tilt backward. Their lip got so close, for a moment and then, suddenly, Diane's eyes snapped open.

"What are you doing?" She asked with a shaky voice and although she didn't sound angry, she positively looked befuddled.

Jack struggled to hide her disappointment and her heart started to pump faster, getting so loud that she could hear the blood thumping inside her ears.

"You're not engaged, right?" She asked hurriedly. Her eyes dropped immediately to her left hand, fearing she might've missed some details, but all her other fingers were wrapped by gems and stones rings, except for one. No, she wasn't engaged, hence that was not the problem, unless… "Wait," Jack paused. "you're not gay?" Diana gave her a soft giggle, then, nibbling at her bottom fingers, she moved her head almost imperceptibility in what she imagined being a _no_. Jack straightened her back, frowning to the point where her eyebrows almost touched. "That's a first." She commented, folding her arms on her chest. "I'm never wrong – generally."

Diana had mimicked her posture, but to her frown, she was answering with a curious grin.  
"Are you?" She questioned, her voice dropping in volume like something secret was about to been divagated. "Gay?"

Jack almost looked outraged, and yet, the naiveness she'd used to make that question, had made it impossible for the woman to feel angry or offended.  
"Isn't that obvious?" She retorted. Diana just stood still, staring back. "Well, that's awkward." The other concluded with a sharp sigh. "And it's another first." It had never happened before to be mistaken for anything but gay; not that she was wearing any label, but somehow people always knew – was it her looks, her posture, her way of walking or her stereotypical short nail, she had no clue, yet everyone always knew. Everyone except her.

"I should probably go." Diana abruptly said, standing up all at once.

The movement was so sudden that made Jack flinch.  
"Yeah." She muttered, her whole self blue for the wasted occasion. "I'm sorry for-"

"Don't be." Diana interrupted, offering her a kind smile.

Jack couldn't help but return it, and her heart started to beat again. Perhaps there was still hope to be even just friend? She couldn't be blamed for hoping, after all; and then who knows in the future what might happen?

"So, you'll call me?" She hurriedly said, rushing to the counter to dig into a drawer she always planned to tidy up but never did. When she finally found what she was looking for, she offered Diana a small laminated card.

The woman studied the card with a diverted smirk, drawing closer to her face the piece of paper before letting out a soft giggle.  
"Spartula?" She asked, lifting her eyebrows with a diverted face.

Jack pursued her lips unimpressed, maybe even embarrassed at some level, and shoved both of her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.  
"I know it's lame, but it's an old card. Anyhow, it has my phone on it." She sheepishly explained, swinging on the spot. "I thought it was funny, you see – I had a Greek-themed logo." She said, pointing at the card, where a little grecian symbol would décor one corner.

"It is." The other admitted with a small nod, her lips still smiling.

"Now it's Queen of Tarts." Jack said with a faint grimace, considering for a moment telling her how she'd thought, for a while, to keep playing with the name and twisting it around, then she desisted. There would be time to talk, later, if she'd decided to indeed call her back.

"Still, your logo is Leonida's statue in Sparta." Commented Diana, gesturing toward the small billboard on the wall. "You're preaching to the choir with me." She smiled, tilting her head ever so slightly.

Jack beamed as she took the card and carefully slipped into her purse to keep it safe. It was something already. It gave her hope.

"What can I say?" She grinned. "I'm lucky." Diana shared a peal of small laughter with her, before heading to the shop's entrance, the other in tow as she escorted her on the doorway. "It was a pleasure." She finally muttered, extending her arm.

Diana happily took her hand and gracefully shook it; contrary to hers, Jack's fingers felt warm.  
"Likewise." She said, her voice coming out just like a whisper. "Bye."

Jack restrained the urge to push the thin lock of hair that came undone behind her ear and just smiled. "Bye." She replied.

Jack watched her leaving her bakery. Her smartly dressed silhouette sprinted outside with her shoes in one hand, waving for a cab to stop. When she found one, Diana hopped in, then waved from the black car. Jack found herself smiling back at her.

As she disappeared into the traffic, the woman sighed.  
She really hoped Diana would call.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Yellow Stone

For updates and extras, follow the dedicated blog on Tumblr: _Artemisia x Gorgo [meltemi-artemisiagorgo-300modern]_

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Chapter Two – The Yellow Stone

Almost a week had passed since the opening night at the museum and the new Persian wing was drawing people from all over: tourists with their cameras, families eager to show their children the beauty of antiques, teachers and schools and also enthusiasts and historians.

Diana hadn't had a minute for herself and she couldn't be more proud of it. Her daily routine consisted in waking up early and spend her whole time into the museum, leaving only when the last staff member had left and after such full and stressful day where she had to fight off her anxiety for people non-stop, she would return home to eat and pass out on her bed or couch; and only to start all over again when her alarm clock would activate itself.

She'd had barely time to think of herself, but when she did, her thoughts automatically flew to that particular evening that happened on such a special occasion. She would go through her speech, again and again, tormenting herself because she'd stammered a couple of times and made little eye contact with the guests and then, yes, when she'd found Jack standing in the back, smiling absent-mindedly at her, her eyes had fixed on her face and never left.  
Diana could barely remember anything that happened after that, it was like time had frozen or, on the contrary, had run so quickly that she didn't even notice that she was giving her thanks and curtain calls, including buttering her boss up in a subtle way, at the very end.

She should've been proud about how the evening had gone, and yet the night hadn't stopped there, not for her; it was like the party had been soon forgotten when Jack had invited her over the bakery shop. Not only because she couldn't even remember the last time she ate something properly baked, sweets nonetheless, but also and in particular for Jack herself.

That woman had made her feel right at ease, helped when she was in distress, gave her food and comfort, talked to her and, most importantly, had managed to make her laugh without even trying too hard.

As time and day passed, she noticed that whenever she had a minute for herself, her thoughts went straight to Jack and those minutes they'd spent together. At evening, as she slurped her microwaved noodles straight from the paper cup, she would often distract herself from the news channel just to think of the bakery and its owner – one day, she'd even dreamed about that evening, just to end up in the most strange ways of the shop flooding, out of nowhere. It was a usual way for her dreams to end: with floods, fires or disasters of the sort.

Diana crossed her legs on the park's bench, tapping frustratedly her foot for a minute before drawing a sharp breath. She really didn't need a day off now. For her, her rest day was frustrating and generally, she would slouch on the desk in her study back home, staring at her laptop without any purposes whatsoever, feeling empty and sad, and yet today she felt surprisingly lively, anxious for something she didn't even know. She even got dressed and almost barged outside, on the streets, exploiting that warm day of summer to walk without destination around her neighbor.

She suddenly realized she'd never took time to visit those gardens during those years, not even to stroll or to read a book under a tree or just relax.

She only knew the museum, few streets in downtown, the closest grocery store and nothing more. Diana had been living in London for a long time now and she didn't know the first thing about the city; yes, she visited some streets, but never acted like a tourist or a normal person in general: as sad as it could be to just admit it, she had no friends there, except for her colleagues at the museum, and she feared that most of them were nice just because she was one step ahead of them and the boss always relied on her for the littlest of things.

It was a solitary life, but she was used to it, therefore it never really bothered her. Or to better say, it hadn't until that evening. Because since Jack appeared, she couldn't think of anything else but to replicate that evening or just spend time with her, doing whatever, as simple as that.

The woman sighed again, absent-mindedly digging her hand in her purse and wrapping her fingers around her phone without pulling it out. She feared she would appear desperate and needy – she was, perhaps, as things were – but the more she thought of it, the more excited she felt; not scared or anxious, which was a novelty, for her.

While nibbling at her bottom lip, she finally pulled out her phone and selected Jack's bakery number, staring for a couple of instants at the screen before placing the phone next to her ear. She could almost feel the seconds passing, all the little buttons she could press, the red one in particular, after Jack would pick up, pretending that nothing had happened just like the silliest and immature teen dealing with the first crush.

Diana took a small breath, bracing herself for everything that might happen.

When Jack indeed answered the phone, her mind went totally blank.

"Hello?" Came again the voice, coming out slightly twisted from the speakers.

The other shook her head a little, clearing her throat before speaking.  
"Hello. It's Diana." She said, frowning in embarrassment when she heard nothing; what if Jack had already forgotten about her? "From the museum?"

There was a pause.  
"Hi." Jack replied, her voice sounded somewhat ecstatic, which caused Diana to silently chuckle. She too, then, cleared her throat. "What's up?"

"I was wondering if you're free?" She asked, striving so hard to sound cool and casual. She even shrugged her shoulders, nibbling dismissively at her lip, even if Jack couldn't obviously see her. "I've got the rest of the afternoon for myself and I thought, maybe-"

"Now?" Jack cut her off rather abruptly.

"Yes?"

"Well, I've got a delivery for a kid's party in half an hour." Jack replied with a sigh. Diana couldn't decide if she was sighing for her bothering her at work of because she had a job that would force her to decline her offer, though. "Where you at?"

"Primrose Hill, why?"

"The job is in Little Venice Gardens. It's quite far." Jack offered, her voice completely calm and collected.

Diana's heart leaped, it was far, but half an hour was more than enough to get there in time. She swallowed, trying to conceal her excitement.  
"I could meet you there." She stated with a smile.

"Could you meet me at the bus stop in Warwick Avenue? I need a spot to park my truck." Jack suggested.

Diana nodded eagerly, then she realized she was on the phone and the woman couldn't possibly imagine what was she up to.  
"Sure." She chirped hurriedly. "I'll be there." She assured. It would've been a nice, long walk.

"Awesome. See you later."

Diana bid her goodbyes with a chocked breath, feeling proud of herself to have been the one who started the conversation, for once in her life. Maybe she didn't expect much from that afternoon or maybe, on the contrary, she was expecting everything – she didn't know; Diana was only anxious to see Jack again and soon.  
Whatever would become of them, she was eager to find out.

🏛️

She glanced at her wrist to check on her watch and smiled to herself. Any time, now, she would see Jack's truck coming from the corner. She happily studied each approaching car from behind her sunglasses, jumping at every engine she could ear, her smile slightly dropping when yet another bus came and stopped in front of her, opening the doors with a gentle whistle as people of every age poured out from the vehicle.

She usually was the one making people wait, if work wasn't involved of course, so being the one waiting certainly put her in a tight spot where she didn't know exactly how to behave. She felt excited, maybe even too eager to see a certain truck approaching and surely she didn't want to give the impression of being desperate for a company as she was, in fact.

Diana could hardly remember the last time she went out with a friend just to shop or for a drink and if she could recall something, it also brought back dreadful memories of restaurants or nightclubs she had been dragged to, quickly making her regret going out in the first place. Friends were something everyone needed, but for some reason, she didn't seem to be able to find or keep a suitable one for her.  
Then, were there even right friends for a person like her? She was picky and nervous most of the time and so deep caught with her work and passion for antiques that she sometimes even forgot having friends in the first place.

And yet, if she really searched herself, even for a moment, she found herself wondering if she was indeed just looking for a friend, now. All those years, she never longed for anything but a peaceful life and a satisfactory job, which she had now, so the next logical step would settle down permanently. Diana never thought of a companion specifically, she'd tried a couple of time but it had never been the right time; and then Jack appeared out of nowhere.

It was odd, in a way, because she really thought she would settle with a rich tycoon who'd invested into the museum, someone she respected enough, the least bad among a bunch of men who would constantly offer themselves in various occasion. She was still young, she had time to decline each suitor, but she also knew, sadly, that one day she would've accepted if that something unexpected hadn't happened in her life. Perhaps that _something_ was called Jack.

After all, if she really thought about it, she'd never omitted any possibility since she was a teen; for some reason, however, the specific thought of another woman never occurred before, she'd simply leaned more toward men because it was the easiest thing to do, but she never wrapped her head around the idea much. She always felt she was floating between the two, never really deciding for either, just waiting for the better occasion to happen.

Diana absent-mindedly twisted the new ring around her finger. She wasn't fully accustomed to wearing it yet, but just like with the others, she would easily and quickly adjust.

When she finally saw the truck approaching, she couldn't suppress the smile that escaped her lips. She stepped back, following the wobbling vehicle to the parking lot, giggling to herself when she saw the logo painted on the side.

Jack gingerly got out of the truck, smiling widely at her as soon as her feet touched the ground. She was wearing ripped jeans and a flour-stained t-shirt while her arms were full of leather bracelets of all kinds; once again, even in their casual clothes, they'd look like a mismatched pairing, one next to the other.

Diana promptly approached her, wondering if she should offer her a hug of a kiss on the cheek. Could she consider herself a friend? She couldn't just forget, though, that Jack had tried to kiss her, that night. What if she wanted to pretend that the thing never happened? Was Diana supposed to do the same and, more importantly, did she want to?

The woman hoped that in the meanwhile, at least Jack would decide how to greet her, unfortunately, that didn't seem the case; they just stood there, one in front of the other, for a couple of awkward and excruciating minutes.

"Hi." Jack finally said, her nose twitching as she tentatively swayed back and forth.

"Hi." The other replied, fearing the hot sensation she now felt on her cheekbones. She cleared her throat and rose up on her toes, trying to peek curiously inside the truck. "Do you need some help?" She offered tentatively.

Jack considered it for a moment as she threw herself over to reach the passenger's seat, where a bluish box with a striped bow rested, secured with the safety belt.

"Yes," The woman said, her voice distant as she was busy scooping the box up within her arms very carefully. "there's a plastic bag under the seat, could you please carry that?"

Diana nodded promptly, grabbing the bag. She saw Jack struggling to reach the keys, so she immediately got closer to retrieve them from her belt and locked the truck for her.

She stood there with the keys in her hand, her throat going suddenly dry as their gazes met and locked. Jack pushed out her hip toward her, waiting for Diana to open the small carabiner and hang it back on her belt. The woman did everything in silence, her eyes fixed and focused on the work of her own fingers, moving rapidly and efficiently, her perfect black nail polish chipping inevitably when the hook caught the tip of her nail.

Diana frowned, surprised that it didn't bother her, not in the least. When the woman had offered her hip, her shirt had slightly exposed part of her flesh and Diana had been too caught thinking how odd and peculiar the shades of their skins looked, side by side, her pale and freckled complexion compared to her bronzed and flawless one.

The woman drew her thumb to her lips, suckling for a moment the tip of her finger. She just had a slight scratch over her nail, where the color had come off and, absent-mindedly, she started to nibble the remains with her teeth.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Jack asked, a little concerned.

Diana immediately shook her head, putting her hand down by her side.  
"No, I just chipped my nail polish." She grimaced dismissively, following her closely as she led the way to the nearby park.

Being around Jack made her feel incredibly clumsy and warm inside up to the point, sometimes, that the sensations became uncomfortable; it added a whole new meaning to her anxiety. It was a good one, an invisible force that made her eager to do and know more, with the only concern of changing Jack's opinion about her own person. The last thing she wanted to do was to trigger wrong ideas about herself in other people's mind, who often mistook her behavior and painted her for someone she was most definitely not. With Jack, she was determined to be just Diana, no matter what it took.

Diana always felt really awkward around children. At first, she was totally indifferent, but then, after working into museums for the most part of her life, she had started to hate them, not only because they tended to get noisy and ran all over the places, but also seemed to be completely indifferent to the beauty surrounding them: the statues wouldn't get them staring in awe, the magical stories behind the relics wouldn't get them gazing in admiration, their little minds wouldn't wander through space and time.  
She always did that as a child, always getting mocked by her little friends, because she was not like the others children, who were mostly happy to skip a day at school rather than being in a museum. After the hours she had to spend with the teachers and schools when all the other guides were busy, she'd learned to merely tolerate those uninterested little humans, rather focusing on telling tales and passionately speaking non-stop about her work to avoid interacting with the teachers. She often preferred to make the little ones scared of her, yelling coldly when they got too close to the relics, so they won't ask questions.

Jack, on the other hand, seemed to be at ease as she carried the boxed cake through a crowd of screeching children with grass stains and dirt all over their shirts. She actually seemed to enjoy being there, the kids crying for the cake, yelling and jumping around through their sugar rushes and asking for more. It was worse than a war field and yet Jack seemed to be in control, dominating the overly-excited mass with sweet words and wide smiles.

Diana admired her. She was glad that those children were after her because she was obviously carrying the cake and had no interested in someone carrying a plain plastic bag, because, otherwise, she knew she would've freaked out.

She found out she was the one with the birthday candles only when Jack asked her to hand over the bag and settled down eight candles on the top of the Cars themed cake. It was simpler, of course, than the one she made for the museum, but equally beautiful and gracefully decorated and, judging from the amazed looks on the kids as they ate spoon after spoon, stubbornly stuffing their puffy cheeks, it had to taste great too.

She sang happy birthday along with Jack, feeling completely out of place, while the woman clapped and threw enthusiastic glances everywhere. When she finally leaned toward her, whispering things into her ear, Diana nodded, without really knowing to what she agreed on. She only felt her breathe crashing on her neck and hoped her agony wouldn't be prolonged because of her carelessly nodding.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" She asked – maybe again -, this time looking directly to Diana. The other took time to read her lips over the screeches of the children and, this time, she consciously nodded.

🏛️

As they strolled down the streets, heading to the nearby canals to talk and walk at the shades of the trees, Jack shoved her hands inside her pockets, peering at her every so often with the corner of her eye. She felt like she was dragging her feet, compared to the light stride Diana had in her heels and her long, dark shirt – which was see-through from the knees down –, rustling on her long legs, making the swishing sound of leaves.

Now that she wasn't wearing skyscraper heels they were about the same heights, so she imagined that barefoot she would be higher than Diana by a few inches, which still was enough.  
Jack wondered if she should think about those stuff after being rejected but, on the other hand, she couldn't help those thoughts. As she rubbed the back of her neck with a slight frown painted on her face, she wondered why Diana had called her to spend the rest of the afternoon together.

She did reject her in the bakery, and still, she hadn't been screeching in fear or fled out of the shop yelling she was some sort of pervert or freak. Diana had just looked befuddled and confused, maybe now that she had the chance to think about it, she'd changed her mind. Perhaps she still had a chance with her.

In the past few days, whenever she let her mind wander, Diana was the only thing crowding her thoughts. Her songlike voice carrying her thousands of years back on Greek ships, her blue eyes scanning the crown to fix in hers, the softness of her skin under her pads when she tried to kiss her. That woman had completely charmed her.

She regretted not asking for her number, instead, and for a couple of days, she really thought Diana would never call her back, while her heart thumped every time she heard the phone ringing. She would've paid anything to see her again and even arranged a schedule to close the shop early, during the weekend, to visit the museum in the hope to find her there. Luckily, her plans had become unnecessary. She'd patiently waited for things to unfold by their own and she'd been rewarded when Diana had finally called.

"I've never thanked you properly." The woman beside her suddenly said, without turning her head to her. By the side gape of her sunglasses, she could see her blue eyes staring straight ahead, her long lashes brushing against the dark surface of the lens.

Jack stood there in waiting, for a long second.  
"What for?"

Diana bit her lip, lowering her gaze and Jack did too, unwillingly matching her steps with hers.  
"You were the only one who offered help when I was in the restroom, that night."

Jack sighed in realization when she finally could comprehend the topic of the conversation. Like her, Diana was still thinking about that evening, their first encounter, everything that happened afterward.

"Not to burst your bubble, but I was _the_ only one in the restroom." She remarked with a little smirk, to the only purpose of making her laugh or smile, at least. She'd found out that she liked a lot when she smiled.

Diana rolled her eyes and sighed briefly; the tip of her tongue touched for a moment the corner of her mouth, moistening her slightly chapped lips, still noticeable from up-close, even under the thin layer of the nude lipstick.

"Before you, a cleaning lady entered the bathroom. As soon as she saw me, she backed away slowly, leaving me there." The woman winced, her expression seemingly torn between dwelling on the bad memory and demising it out with a smile. "And even earlier, when my boss saw me having stage fright, he thought it was a good idea to threaten to fire my sorry- well, to fire me if I wouldn't have gone up there and made my speech, which led to the crisis you witnessed."

Jack turned her head, her face unable to conceal her outraged expression.  
"I'm so glad I'm my own boss." She commented, to which Diana winced in agreement. Her instinct would suggest her to tell Diana to give her resignation and find another job with a more empathetic boss, a woman boss perhaps, but she knew she would've sounded delusional and unreasonable: the woman's place was clearly into that museum and Jack was sure she would gladly bite the bullet rather than being away from her beloved Greek and Persian relics.

"Men are dumb." She offered in sympathies after a brief pause. It was sad how, sometimes, women like her had to endure such situations because they had literally no other choice.

"They are, sometimes." Agreed Diana with a whisper.

"Most of the time." The other corrected. Frankly, even if his harshness was meant to spur her and find some braveness, it made her feel quite enraged: how on earth did he take such liberty? Jack could see from afar that she wasn't the kind of woman who reacts with the whip, but rather the one that finds comfort with the carrot. How could he be so dumb, not to see that? Was it a men's thing or was it just her, so prone to read people?

When Diana laughed a little at that final sentence, however, and Jack considered herself completely satisfied and dropped the argument all at once.

They resumed their walk, silently strolling one next to the other, the soft rustling of the leaves above their heads and the quiet sloshing of the waters beside them as they follow the narrow path of the canal; few boats laid there, placidly floating and hitting rhythmically the concrete shores. It was all so peaceful that all seemed like it came out of a dream; Jack wondered if she wasn't dreaming indeed.

She took a deep breath, taking in the soft smell of the trees, to bask in the serenity of that moment: the silence, the woman strolling beside her, the future unfolding bringing every possibility with it. Jack closed her eyes for a moment, just for a moment, enough for the spell to shatter.

"Coming through!"

Someone cried out.

Jack had only enough time to snap her eyes open and capture the unmistakable noises of skateboards approaching at all speed. Those ghastly kids couldn't choose a worse moment to startle them.  
Diana jumped toward her, instinctively pushing herself out of the way to make room for them on the narrow passage and Jack, who was right next to her, bumped into her body. The unexpected closeness made Diana panic, thinking she might've hurt her in some way and, in order not to lose balance on her heels, she spread her arms, unwillingly back-smacking Jack right in the face.

It all happened so quickly that the woman didn't realize what happened until it was too late, holding her offended cheek with her hand.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry!" Diana stammered, covering her mouth in guilt and embarrassment. She got closer to her and squeezed the other's shoulder with her fingers, eagerly trying to detect any sign of serious damage on her face.

Jack pushed back all the curses and swearing that came up to her lips and drew a sharp breath, forcing a weary smile out, instead.

"I'll survive." She mumbled, the tip of her tongue passing carefully over her pulsing gums. It was not her cheek that hurt terribly, but rather the inside of her mouth; she couldn't tase blood, however, so there was no need to worry and, in case there was, she wouldn't let her know, obviously.

When she finally succeeded with pushing the pain back in a corner of her brain, she searched for Diana's hand and drew it harshly up to her face, careful not to hurt her wrist in the process. Jack frowned, her lips slightly parted in befuddlement as she studied her long fingers and rings from up close, a snort escaping her lips as she thought, honestly, that the woman was wearing weapons rather than simple jewelry. No wonders she had almost her jaw ripped off.

"What's with all these trinkets?" She asked curiously, her hands showing no intentions of leaving hers.

Diana stared, swallowing discretely the small lump that had grown inside her throat, her blue eyes fixed on the gentle movements, almost subtle, of the woman's pads moving across her skin, her short nails clinking quietly against the metal that wrapped her fingers.

She considered for a moment asking Jack if she was alright, again, but the thought quickly fled out of her mind when she noticed the woman ravished expression as she studied her hand, her pain suddenly forgotten. Surely her rings weren't common, nor low profile, but she had never had anyone staring so intensely at those, right after calling them, mockingly, simple trinkets.

"I like stones." Diana breathed out, her long lashes moving quickly as she decided whether to say something else or wait for Jack to ask for more. "Especially old ones." Her lips bent up into an unconscious smile, like every time she talked about her passion for antiques.

"How do you choose them?" Jack asked, her voice surprisingly flat like her mind was miles away. "You take the pretty ones or you have a method?"

"I choose them for their meanings." Diana explained, raising her other hand to point at each ring as she listed them. "This one is Rhodonite, it's for insight, while this is Hematite, for balance."

"What about this one?" Jack asked, frowning. She thought she remembered those rings from the party, but not that last yellow one; but, of course, she could be mistaken: she hadn't paid much attention to her rings, after all. They certainly weren't what got her attention.

"This one is new. I bought it the day after the party." The other woman confirmed with a shy smile. "It's Citrine, to awaken one's mind."

Jack rose her eyes and started to gaze at the woman. Was she trying to tell her something without spoken her thought out loud? It was a great coincidence if that hadn't been the case, for choosing such a peculiar stone with such a specific meaning right after that night. Yes, she mentioned the party and maybe it was linked to the museum and the new job opportunity, but on the other hand, she couldn't' just ignore that it was the same night they met each other; the same night during which Jack had tried to kiss her.

Perhaps Diana's mind had to be awakened from the slumber she was in, try all the possibilities the world was about to offer. Perhaps she thought Jack could be the one showing a whole new universe. Perhaps she was just overthinking and wishing over something that was already lost or, even worse, never even started.

Jack sighed imperceptibility. She was never wrong, her instinct had always led her to the right path and, right now, she felt that Diana was the way to go. Maybe she wasn't accustomed to such relationships, maybe she'd been so focused on her work that everything felt new to her like she was living again for the first time. Or perhaps she just needed a little time. She could do that: Diana was a woman worth the wait; she would go nice and easy with her.

The woman swallowed, finally releasing her hand by unclenching the gentle hold of her fingers. She didn't want to let go, but she thought better to give Diana more space.

She offered her a kind smile and, after shaking her head toward those skaters, now far away, and resumed her walk, her feet dragging slightly on the unpaved path, creating a thin cloud of dust as she moved. Diana kept up with her, promptly by her side, her heels hitting rhythmically the ground, leaving little holes behind.

"So you like antiques, stones, what else?" Jack asked curiously, shoving both of her hands into the front pockets.

"Historic and mystical things in general." Replayed Diana with a shrug. "I'm rather predictable, I guess." She winched.

Jack, however, didn't seem to think the same: she was looking impressed, not especially from the historical aspect because she always found it boring, but as for the mystical one. It wasn't something very common to hear and, most of all, not from someone like her; perhaps behind those sunglasses and tailored trench-coat there were layers and layers to discover. It was something Jack would gladly do if only Diana would allow her.

"Mystical things? That's far from predictable." Jack snorted with a diverted smile. She suddenly realized she knew very little on the subject and that very little was likely to be incorrect too, since all her knowledge came from B-movies, late night fake ghost-haunting documentaries and shows. "So, do you know how to read tarots?"

"No." Diana immediately answered. "Maybe one day I'll learn the craft, but for now, I'm mostly interested in spirits and reincarnation."

"Oh." Jack was sporting a sheepish expression, already regretting the skepticism that leaked out in her voice.

The other frowned, stopping dead in the middle of the road. That wasn't some random exclamation of a simple disbelieving person. Diana knew – she'd encountered so many, much to her incredulity – that Jack thought it was not only some lame and impossible matter but also foolish to believe in it on any level.

She always felt hurt by such way of thinking about something she held so dear to her heart, but also she'd made a promise, many years ago, not to push people away just for divergences. Besides, she loved to discuss and process other people's thoughts and Jack looked like the perfect partner to talk with: intriguing and easygoing.

"You don't believe in the existence of other lives?" Diana inquired, her head slightly tilted to the side as she spoke, her blue eyes studying her face without blinking. She had a sparkle in them, that trembled with passion, now. "That destiny can bind souls over thousands of years and make them meet again, suddenly, with a new purpose?"

Jack stared, fully considered her words for a few moments. Then, she frowned and shook her head no.  
"I don't accept the idea of my life being already written and all that stuff: it's terrifying." The woman replied, wincing to better remark her words. "I believe we chose our own paths, that destiny doesn't exist, and I don't believe in others or past lives either, not the kind that effects our present existences anyway."

Diana pursed her lips, nodding ever-so-slowly. She could understand how certain people were firmly persuaded that there was no fate dictating their future; she didn't agree, personally, but other points of view interested her nonetheless.

"What do you believe in, then?" She wondered. "What's your explanation for everything that happens? Can't be all coincidences."

Jack shrugged a little, drawing an imaginary line with her foot in the ground.  
"I only believe in good luck and back luck." Was the simple answer she gave.

"Luck is a subtle concept compared to destiny, don't you think?"

"No. It's the same thing." Jack stated, her voice never faltering. "We may call it in different ways, but if you really think about it, we're talking about the same thing. The real difference, for me, lays in how you approach life, you see? While believing in fate means you're more accepting toward anything that happens to you, believing in luck gives you opportunities to use any events that occur to your advantage, good or bad."

Diana stood in silence for a solid minute. Usually, she was the one talking to make people change their mind, uncover for them the truth they might not see at the beginning, while now Jack had seemed to have shown her a whole new perspective without even trying that hard.

"You actually make sense." She muttered impressed.

"Why thank you." Chuckled the other, smiling theatrically. Her steps had gained confidence now, and her feet hovered inches from the ground at each step she took, and her walking became suddenly boldly and springy. "You see, you may think we were destined to meet, while I think it was only good luck. For which I'm really grateful, for the record." She said, leaning suggestively toward her as her voice dropped considerably, as she was whispering secrets into her ear.

Diana swallowed, her hand flying unconsciously to her neck, where her fingers started to fidget around the necklace. She could still feel the soft tingling of the woman's breath on her skin, almost as if anything else existed on the planet, at that moment: not the warm wind that shook the highest leafs, not the soothing sound of the water sloshing against the shores, not the thuds of their steps as they strolled on the path.

Neither of them realized that the bright sun that shone only five minutes before had hidden behind a thick layer of grey clouds heavy with water. Before they knew, a sudden rain started to fall, with drops as big as grapes, typical of the warmer season.

"Good luck, uh?" Snorted Diana, abruptly weakening from her daze, as she squinted her eyes and curled up in her trench. "What would you call this?" She said with a smirk, raising her voice to overcome the deafening noise of the summer storm.

Jack didn't answer right away; she just took her hand and bolted away from the stroll, pulling the other on the sidewalk and into the traffic, regardless of the cars slamming on the breaks to avoid crashing into them as they fled to seek shelter somewhere.

The downpour of rain was so loud that anything else could be heard, the drops so big and dense that their sight was blurred and their clothes completely soaked.

They kept running, the roads becoming streets, the streets becoming alleys as other people ran beside them, seeking for shelter as well; soon, there was no one else besides them, not even a distant sound of an engine could be heard. Maybe they were lost, the city suddenly looking so strange and foreign even to Jack, who lived in London since she the day she was born. She panted, frowning deeply when more water fell into her eyes, delaying her realization of having reached a dead end.

The sharp rumble of thunder startled Diana, who instinctively grabbed harder Jack's hand, drawing herself closer to the woman.

It was then that Jack finally turned, looking back at her, a spontaneous smile creeping on her lips at the sight of her: her perfectly combed hair had come undone, her curled tips and clothes dripping water as she'd turned into a rainy cloud herself. Her make-up had smudged a little around the eyes, but she imagined she'd used some waterproof product, luckily.

"You're drenched." Jack giggled.

"Look who's talking." The other replied promptly.

"I'm not the one shaking like a leaf!" She retorted, her eyes wandering around, eagerly looking for something. When she found what she was looking for, Jack squeezed her hand, suggesting to follow her. "Come on."

Jack led her under a shallow roof, pushing Diana against the wall and positioning herself in the front, shielding her body from the cool breeze and rain with her own.

Diana stared into her hazel eyes, their faces so close that it would take just a small movement to touch one another. They were still painting from their running, their heartbeat doubled, showing no intentions of slowing down to return to a normal rate.

"Also good luck." Jack suddenly whispered, her expression serious.

"What?" The other frowned, struggling to comprehend her thoughts.

"You asked me what I would call the sudden storm." She paused. "I'd call it _good luck_."

Jack could feel her erratic breaths crashing against her slightly parted lips. Thin droplets of rain sneaked into her mouth and she held her breath, her throat and chest constricting for a moment against the need of air. Her lids dropped on Diana's lips, also parted, fair and pink, clearly chapped now that the lipstick was almost completely gone.

The woman smiled and her hand slid carefully around her neck, her fingers settling between her damp locks on the nape.

Jack pulled her closer, making their mouths touch, at last. It was a careful contact which made her heart leap nonetheless and something clicked deep inside, so far that she barely even noticed.

Diana didn't kiss her back, at first; she just stood there, basking within the new sensation of having such soft lips against her own. She closed her eyes, soon after, and finally returned the contact, her stomach turning with mixed emotions, her whole self brewing with something she didn't know, as much as the storm.

She blinked and breathed, her throat suddenly dry. Had it been luck or destiny, she didn't know, not anymore, still, either way, Diana knew it was good.


	3. Chapter 3 - On Her Arm

Posted on July 6th, 2019. Happy Birthday, miss Eva Gaëlle Green.

For updates and extras, follow the dedicated blog on Tumblr: _Artemisia x Gorgo [meltemi-artemisiagorgo-300modern]_

* * *

Chapter Three – On Her Arm

Jack was awakened by the nasty sound of a car honking down in the streets. She covered her face with both of her hands, trying to shield her eyes from the bright light coming in from the window behind her; apparently, she'd forgotten to close the shutters, the previous night.

She grunted, feeling tired and sore like she was having a really bad hangover and yet, that she knew, she didn't have a single drop of alcohol: her mind remembered everything vividly, and so did her heart.

The woman smiled, as she lifted herself up carefully, glancing and blinking at the clock on the bedside table. She was late, but not enough to begin to worry, yet. The benefits of living above the bakery had many advantages, but the best one was being able not to set her alarm clock awfully early – and of course, if she'd happened to oversleep, there was no boss yelling at her.

Jack frowned at herself in the mirror when she realized she still had the clothes from the previous day on and they were stained and sticky on her skin due to the rain, also, her hair was a mess. She supposed she'd just collapsed on her bed sideways, her foot still in her sneakers hanging from the mattress, and fell asleep right away.

She got undressed and threw everything in the washer before taking a shower, her brain constantly going back to the sweet memories of the previous evening again and again like a soothing lullaby. She could hear Diana laughing beside her, if she focused hard enough, she could feel her hand grabbing hers, she could smell her perfume going up to her nostrils and settle somewhere hidden within her chest and, more importantly, she still had her sweet taste lingering on her lips and tongue.

When she finally achieved a presentable look and worn her apron, some customers were already queuing outside the shop. Jack smiled, proud of herself despite the frustrated cries of people demanding their coffee and pastries as they claimed to be late for work, and she got distracted for a while, too caught up with her work to think about anything else.  
And then, just as she was giving the change to a woman, Diana's face flashed before her eyes, concealed behind big sunglasses like the ones the woman owned. But soon, it was blatant that that was not Diana: her hair wasn't as black and silky as hers, her skin didn't look as fair and that smile wasn't as sweet nor beckoning as hers.

She frowned, disappointed when she realized she was staring at someone who didn't resemble Diana, not in the least, and eyed the phone resting on the counter right next to her, resisting the urge to pick it up and dial her number, just to hear her voice and say _hello_.

Diana needed time. For as much as it pained her to force herself to give the woman space and time, Jack was determined to respect her timing, give her all she needed to clear her mind and decide what to do with everything that happened. She had never been a patient woman, but for someone like Diana, she could try – she wanted to make things work in the better of ways, and badly too.

When they first kissed, as the rain poured all around them, Jack could feel her being nervous. She could feel that it been a long time since she'd kissed someone and even a lifetime since she'd kissed a woman, literally; maybe Jack had been her first. No, it was like that for sure.  
She could imagine the twirl of emotions brewing inside her, now, the least she could do was to wait for her, in her own times. She couldn't resent her for fleeing just after they broke the kiss, her reddened lips, smeared with the nude lipstick, mumbling promises about calling and apologies as she walked away.

Jack had found her incredibly cute. She couldn't regret her boldness, nor the kiss, because it had been what her heart desired and, even if it was a guess, she felt that it had been the same for Diana.

The woman sighed loudly, rearranging some sweets and cookies inside the display and got lost for entire minutes looking out from the windows. The cars were passing by, speeding up as they tried not to get stuck in the traffic, people would walk on the streets and only sometimes she could spot a kid gazing at her shop, attempting to pull the parent toward the bakery, just to be dragged away with some excuses she couldn't hear.

She'd always loved summers in the city, where the air was warm, the trees were green and the streets full of smells and languages from all over the globe.

Jack was so caught up in her thoughts about her plans for the night that she almost didn't realize her phone was ringing. She rolled her eyes, slightly bothered and annoyed to whoever had interrupted her happy and nostalgic thoughts, when her eyes actually focused on the screen-lock: over the default image, Diana's name appeared on the display, white and quite anonymous because she'd saved the number in hurry, while having still no elements to personalize the contact.

She felt her stomach constricting and her heart suddenly dropping rate. She threw herself over the phone, fumbling with it around because she had flour on her hands and couldn't grab it properly nor easily using the touchscreen. The woman swallowed and dragged the icon to finally answer, hoping not to have wasted too much time.

"Hello?" She said, struggling to keep her voice steady.

"Jack? It's me." Came the answer.

The other woman smiled. The previous day, already, she'd found her voice cute over the phone and today her thoughts were just being confirmed. Her tone, still nervous like the first time she called, however, had a weird inflection that she had trouble to detect.

"What's up?" Jack asked, her brow already frowning as she tried to interpret whatever she might hear from now on. What if she was having second thoughts? What if she wanted to call the whole thing off? Jack was willing to give her time, but if any of those scenarios was the case, Diana hadn't taken any to fully think about whatever they were doing; maybe her fear was finally, and sadly, prevailing.

"I need a big favor." She whispered, her voice cracking at the end.

Jack let out the small breath she didn't know she was holding: at least she wasn't pushing her away, on the contrary, Diana was drawing her closer, involving her with something that was clearly important to her. Besides, now that she was sure that nothing about them was on the stake – that was the appearance –, the curiosity was killing her.  
"Tell me about it, don't worry."

"My boss is hosting a fancy party at his villa and I've been staring at the invitation for quite some time." Blurted Diana, almost without taking a breath during the whole phrase.

"What's the matter?"

"I really don't want to go there by myself, would you- would you be my_ plus one_?"

Jack smiled. She could almost see her chewing on her lips as she waited for her answer. The woman nodded even if Diana couldn't see her, her heart leaping as she thought of all the possibilities, opportunities and all the doors she'd opened with that one, simple proposal. Did she ask her out of nervousness or need or desperation, it didn't matter, because Diana had thought of her and that was the important thing.  
"Of course, I'd love to." She grinned.

"Really?" Diana sounded relieved, now.

"Sure. What time?"

"Eight o'clock will do? I'll meet you at the bakery and we'll grab a cab to get there."

"Perfect. See you tonight."

Jack was still smiling when she put down the phone. She tapped on the screen, thinking for a moment of the clothes she would be wearing, at the things she would say.

She was feeling happy and lucky to have found such a person in the most random way, and that she was building something unexpectedly, out of nowhere. Jack pursued her lips, thinking if she had yielded too soon or accommodated her request without playing the mysterious busy woman to her own advantage. Then, she waved the thought away: playing tricks with her wasn't the right way to win that woman's heart.

Besides, what the point to act like that would be? She knew herself. She would have said _yes_ to anything if it was Diana asking.

🏛️

The woman walked steadily, her stride long and elegant, almost as her feet were gliding on the sidewalk. Her high heels were hitting the paving with a rhythmic sound, reaching her ears with a soothing effect for her whole spirit; she loved to walk, whenever she felt tensed, she just went for a stroll, since she was a child: it was her way to clear her mind, getting lost on the familiar paths, the noises and the methodical movements creating a calming pattern around her that brought her peace. Now that she spent all her days inside the museum, she'd learned to love the sound of her heels hitting the marble even more. It was like casting a spell.

Diana took a deep breath as she walked down the empty street that linked the museum at the bakery, her mind racing back to the first night she met Jack, how she escaped the cameras to seek for shelter inside her shop. The way that woman had taken care of her, fed her sweets, made her laugh and made her also feel right at home with simple gestures and then... then, there was yesterday.

There'd been the kiss. The one that had stopped her heart and cut her breath, the one that brought out emotions, so beautiful and frightening at the same time that she had to get away to escape something she didn't fully understand.

Every other relationship she had, it had never begun with such emotional transport, befuddlement, spontaneity, and happiness.

With Jack, she'd immediately felt at ease, obliged to be herself, without rethinking anything; to be honest, the woman had seen her at her worst, terrified and anxious and had helped her out without asking anything in return. Now that she thought of it, it was astonishing how quickly the woman had entered her heart.

Diana felt genuinely drawn to her, everything she did, in the past few days, she strongly wished that Jack could be there, celebrating her accomplishments or sharing her sorrows. Or even just looking back at her, with those green eyes locked in hers, somewhat transfixed and focused like she did the first time during her speech, or fondly and tempting like she did yesterday, under the pouring rain.

The woman unconsciously smiled at the thought, her heart skipping a beat at the titillating smell of freshly baked cake teasing her nostrils which, inevitably, reminded her of Jack.

She gathered some black fabric into her hand to lift her skirt and sped up her pace on the last few meters toward the shop; the stripe of light material attached to her shoulders, colored in white, flapped beyond her back like a cape, but she didn't bother to check behind, for her eyes were too focused on the only person standing on the same side of the road, busy with locking the shop on the corner of the street.

Diana tilted her head, slowing her walk again when she noticed the other woman's attire. She said it was a fancy dinner, didn't she? Was she supposed to specify it was a formal one too and not just a simple party? The thought never occurred to her; after all, she'd been at the museum gala, even as a staff member. But then why would she be wearing trousers?

The closer she got to her, however, the more her heart returned to a normal beat: the light of the nearby street-light suddenly went on, casting a white shaft of light right on Jack.

Somehow, now, it all made sense.  
She couldn't even imagine Jack wearing a gown with a big skirt or even a skirt, for the matter, hence, that tailored suit was more than perfect on her. To be honest, she looked positively ravishing in her blue jacket and matching pants, her hair combed into a low bun resting on her neck and few loose, curled tips cascading from the sides in no particular order. She was also wearing light makeup, accentuating her eyes.

When Jack spotted her, a bright smile appeared on her lips as she greeted her. Once again, the both of them were unsure on how to react, but Diana was glad that the other decided to pull her in, to peck a light kiss her cheek, so she could do the same, feeling her skin growing hot and red right afterward.

Diana smiled shyly, her eyes still scanning her clothing.

"What?" Asked Jack, her face suddenly going serious as she frowned in panic. "Don't tell me it's a tie obligatory party, because I don't have a matching one." She mumbled, her fingers quickly going to wrap her own neck, where the collar of the white shirt stood unbuttoned.

"No." The other reassured. "I mean- yes, but I don't think the rule applies for women." She said with a soft twitch of her nose which was followed by a spontaneous smile. "Anyway, you look very smart. And- and very smart." She lowered her eyes, her cheeks aching.

Jack offered her a proud smirk as she straightened up her back, flattening her jacket with her hands. "Thank you. You look beautiful too." She stated boldly, easily reading into her mind. She waited to meet her eyes again, darker due to the absence of light, but also shimmering at the artificial light coming from the street-light, and offered Diana her arm.

🏛️

The villa was in one the wealthy suburb of London. The building stood at the end of a green field surrounded in oak trees, white and mighty with its classic structure; columns at the front and tall windows all over. The gravel at the entrance creaked under the cab's tires as it made its way in, passed the black gates and dropped them off right in front of the entrance.

There were few black cars parked on the side, but Diana only recognized a couple belonging to her colleagues from the museum and the boss's SUV inside the open garage, while she was sure she'd never seen the other cars before. She chose not to overthink that oddity and paid the taxi, grabbing Jack's hand as she exited the vehicle.

"I've never been to a private party of the sort, before." Commented Jack as she absent-mindedly flattened her jacket on the sides.

"My boss likes to show off his things, so he organizes parties for the people working at the museum very often. I guess he used the new accomplishments as an excuse to celebrate more and do what he likes the most." Diana sighed, carefully walking on the unsteady gravel toward the brief flight of steps that lead to the front door.

"_Your_ accomplishments." The other rectified, matter-of-factly, without even turning her head to face her. "Anyway, I guess that what he likes the most is flaunting opulence." She commented, her voice cynical as she stared at the building and at the golden statues of the lions guarding the entrance, one on each side.

The building was old, but none of the decorations looked of the same period, those things were modern, even; it was a proof that the guy didn't inherit that place, but bought it by himself and filled it with fancy and expensive things. She knew the kind: she'd worked for those people several times, and not just that. She had nothing wrong with rich people, of course, but the mere fact that he liked to rub it often into his colleagues' faces made her despise the guy even before meeting him, also what Diana had told her about his conduct in her regards during the opening night didn't help at all.

When Diana pulled the golden chain, a low sound of bells echoed from the inside of the house. There were lights flickering and shapeless shadows approaching behind the blurred glasses next to the door, with soft chatting noises to accompany those.

A man on his sixties, smartly dressed in a tailored suit in tones of dark green and matching glasses, opened the door to welcome them in. Jack could already felt the woman's grip around her arm intensifying, her nails almost digging into her flesh despite the layers of clothes.

"Good evening sir." She greeted Diana politely.

"Hello, Diana." He replied. Jack found it rather strange that his eyes – she could see those little black dots moving behind the glasses – had turned over her. He stared and smirked with an odd expression that the woman didn't dare to name, but which detested nonetheless. "I see you've brought someone. That's new!" He commented with a slightly cunning expression, almost as if she was mocking Diana. "Who is this?"

Jack felt her fidgeting, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.  
"This is- miss-"

The woman turned her head, tightening her jaw as she understood the source of the other's uneasiness. She swallowed and moved a little bit forward, drawing the attention back onto her. "Jack will be fine, sir." She promptly answered, stretching out her free hand. The woman squeezed his hand with purpose as he shook hers.

"Jack?" He repeated, frowning in confusion for a moment.

"Jack." She confirmed, letting finally go of his hand, without telling him anything more: her game wasn't worth it, not with someone like him; she was fine with just giving the guy a brief moment of bewilderment.

"Do come in, dinner is starting in less than an hour." He said, at last, moving away from the doorway to let them pass.

Jack and Diana shared a silent glance as they entered the hallway, as they both suddenly realized, oddly enough, that they didn't even know each other's last names; it was almost surreal, but also fun and mysterious at the same time.

The inside of the villa was even more impressive: it had carpets and modern lighting along with statues at the bottom of the stairs and libraries full of books. To a common eye, everything could seem old and of value, but Jack could easily detect that none of those things had the special aura of ancient belongings passed over within the family. Everything had been bought new, except for a few little things on display that probably came directly from the museum or auctions.

Jack felt bad for Diana, but she strived not to show it. The remark that her boss had made about being a new thing that she'd brought someone with her, made her think and consider a lot of things. Perhaps it was even the first time she went to a working dinner accompanied.

And if she was already tensed with a friendly companion by her arm, she couldn't even imagine how she would've been without. That crisis she'd witnessed at the museum was the natural reaction of anyone that nervous like Diana – she wondered how did she get her job in the first place, at one point, but then her discoveries and fulfilments talked in her stead.

Jack was studying some old vase trapped inside a glass case enlightened with neons when she felt her arm being slightly pulled.

"I don't like it." Diana whispered.

"You don't like what?" The other frowned, trying to follow her glance, which had settled on a group of smartly dressed men in the other room. They all looked densely chatting with Diana's boss, but what caught her attention most, was that they all had Asian traits. It surely was peculiar and Diana must've thought the same.

"I don't know those people."

"You said it was a private dinner for the museum staff."

"I know." Sighed Diana, eyeing suspiciously each of those men.

After a couple of minutes, during which Jack had tried to lose the mood by engaging Diana by guessing what were they talking about, the group stopped talking and the master of the house came walking back to the hallway, approaching them with a smooth and boastful stride.

"We're about to get major funding for the museum, they just need a little push." He said with an elated voice, with came out as a whisper still, because it was clear his attempt to keep the matter quiet, in fear one of those men might've overheard their conversation.

There was a pregnant moment of silence between them.  
Jack could almost feel his small, black eyes scanning her soul with a pretentious demand even if he wasn't looking directly at her. She could only imagine what kind of mixed emotions were brewing within the woman at her side. Whatever feeling Diana had had about those gentlemen, she had been right.

"Why are you looking at me?" Diana questioned, her voice inevitably altered. "You didn't tell me you'd have investors over."

Jack felt proud to hear her protest, for a moment, because it was clear it wasn't something she would normally do. Her thoughts were confirmed by her boss' reaction, because his smirked disappeared, transforming itself into an irked expression of someone who isn't accustomed nor liked to be contradicted.

"I thought you could tell them about the discoveries and the transcriptions you've made thanks to the previous founding." He said gravely. "It is not a problem, isn't it?" He asked, his voice sounding rhetorical as one of his brows moved abruptly, bending awkwardly up.

Diana cleared her throat, trying to regain some composure and her blue eyes shimmered wildly as she tried to support his glance.

"I haven't prepared anything, sir." She stated resolutely.

Jack sighed silently. She wanted to intervene, take Diana's side and defend her because, honestly, it was an absurd request to satisfy. She would have troubles making a speech out of nowhere about pies and cakes, even if they were her favorite subjects to discuss – no wonder the poor thing was squeezing her arm so much she could feel her nails digging into her flesh, almost painfully, now. Jack was growing a whole new level of hatred toward that man.

"Improvise, Diana." He blurted out, clearly having lost his patience. "Show everyone you're not just a pretty face, uh?" Jack's eyes went wide at that statement, but all the protests died on her lips when she saw him leaning toward Diana, his mouth getting close to her ear as he found his smirk back. "Don't make me question your position once again." He said and then straightened his shoulders, smiling as nothing had happened. He stared meaningfully down at Diana before leaving.

Jack felt horrible for her. She was so glad she was her own boss so she didn't have to face those situations, but unfortunately, now it wasn't about her. She could show her sympathies and say all the nasty things she could think of about her boss, but there were much bigger problems now: her beloved job probably at stake, her anxiety playing against her, the speech to make in order to impress those gentlemen.  
Diana didn't need to insult her boss to feel better, she needed support and encouragement. Diana needed her.

Jack waited for the man to leave the room before moving from her side and positioning herself in front of the other woman. She placed her hands above her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"You're alright?" She whispered. "You got this."

Diana had her head tilted down until she threw a frenzied glance at her and exhaled sharply.

"I worked on the opening night speech for a whole month and still managed to give myself a panic attack. I _don't_ have this." She replied, her breathing already labored.

Jack bit her inner cheek. Her boss was truly insufferable and she couldn't bear the thought of him threatening Diana every time she was just in need of a little encouragement; maybe if he'd act less demanding and authoritative, she wouldn't stress herself that much, but then again, it wasn't the time to think about possibilities right now.

"Just look at me, like the other night." The woman offered with a supporting smile. "It'll be fine." She said, her voice calm and positive, bearing the comforting sound of a promise.

For as much as she liked being at her side, Jack immediately thought that the table arrangement could be a problem. She wasn't facing Diana from other side and the only little contact she could give her was just a soft brush with the arm against her own.

Jack had all her senses alert and she moved and talked quietly only when someone would ask a question directly. Diana was being awfully quiet, her blue eyes scanning alarmed each face, jumping whenever her boss' voice would rise louder across the guests in fear the moment had arrived.

When it did, Jack tilted her head toward her, listening carefully as she tried to collect all her thoughts in order to make a decent speech and present smoothly every argumentation as she did on the opening night. She was doing great and still, her voice cracked more than one time, and she tried to wave the embarrassment away by sporting a nervous smile afterward; the investors seemed to be caught with her words, nodding among themselves as they exchanged impressed glances.

And yet, despite going well, Diana was struggling. It wasn't something that everybody could notice because everything she said sounded passionate and charming, but Jack could sense the turmoil that was shaking her from the inside.

Jack sighed imperceptibly and casually abandoned her fork on the table, making the metal silently clink against the china, and she moved her hand carefully, placing it on the other woman's bouncing knee below the tablecloth. She waited and after a while, Diana stopped fidgeting and her words grew steadier and steadier as she went on with her speech.

Now that everything seemed to have returned back on the tracks, Jack let that voice carry her away, once again. She could visualize herself on the ship Diana was describing, the transcriptions she was now reciting sounded so familiar to her own ears, even if she'd listened to them only once before. Jack took a deeper breath, her mind suddenly amazed by the particularly vivid images that she was seeing right before her eyes: the sun struggling to emerge from beyond a thick layer of clouds, the crackling of fire, the floor moving under her feet as if it was lulled by waves, she could smell the sea and her heart thumping against her ribs as she was among those Greeks, about to fight the Persians.

When she finally regained enough control to blink the images away, Diana was done with her speech and the gentlemen at the other side of the table were chatting loudly and nodding eagerly as they show their interests in invest their money.

Jack smiled brightly at her, the woman struggling to calm herself down now that, finally, the attention wasn't on her anymore. She was glad, however, that her boss seemed to be particularly satisfied with her performance and the outcome of it, so much that he, in fact, left her alone for the rest of the evening, perhaps too busy with persuading the investors in giving even more money than necessary.

It had never happened to her before, but Jack was now only waiting to leave that party. She'd been to so many dinners like that one that she was getting sick, the whole room feeling crumpled and overly stuffed, almost closing above her. Thus, when Diana was finally dismissed by her boss, she happily followed her out, mirroring her as the woman took a deep breath in the cool air from outside the villa, that dreadful experience now belonging to the past, securely locked behind that door.

"Thank you." Diana breathed out, finally releasing all the tension from her shoulders. "I wouldn't have done without your help."

"Of course you would." Jack replied promptly.

"But I would've coped much worse." The other grimaced sincerely. "It's the second time you pull me out from the same situation in one piece. It means a lot to me."

Jack stared at the timid smile she had on her lips now. The poor lighting gave her skin a subtle glow, the shimmer of her eyes enhancing the ferment that still clasped her soul.

"So I was right," Jack smirked, unable to prevent the proud smile that crept out from her own lips. "it was out of luck that you asked me to escort you tonight."

"Or maybe it was fate." Retorted the other. Then, suddenly, her face grew serious. "Want to come to my place?" She blurted out, almost without taking any breath. "To talk or- whatever. I don't feel like being alone yet." She winced, squeezing her eyes dismissively. It wasn't like her to ask for a company right after a social event: usually, she would lock inside her apartment and pretend that the rest of the world and people, most of all, didn't exist. But that Jack couldn't know. Did she make a fool of herself? Did she sound too pushy? She was definitely not good with people. "It's alright if you can't."

Jack stared, her lips slightly parted in astonishment. She did not expect that proposal and especially not from someone like Diana, out of the blue, after a stressful night like that one. It was rare to remain speechless and yet Diana was beating her in her own field and that was quite alarming: it was like she was just realizing that she'd been the one ask her out both of the times and now she was even inviting her to her place. Even if it was indeed just to talk, it was a great step, that was a stating fact. Jack needed to catch up and fast, even if that peculiar situation, she had to admit, was particularly titillating, mostly because none of that had been planned or could be foreseen.

She didn't want to keep her waiting, make her more anxious and embarrassment than she was already. After all, wasn't it what she dreamed of and hoped for? Anything could become of it, if they were both willing to seize every chance that might occur, fate or luck, it didn't matter.

"I'd love to come to your place." Jack happily nodded, offering her arm once again.

🏛️

Jack felt like an intruder as soon as she stepped over the entrance door: that place was immaculate, everything seemed to be neat like it had come straight out of a magazine. If she wasn't sure that Diana owned that place, she would've even doubted that anyone was living in it. Her heels tapped on the marble in the hallway, echoing through the white walls that lead to the living room and the corridors, a little further away. Jack was behind her.

For as beautiful and organized, as well as perfectly equipped, that house was, however, Jack felt the place quite anonymous. There were no pictures hanging on the walls, no strange looking objects to define her personality – except for the plasters statues scattered pretty much everywhere. Her apartment looked perfect, a pretty surface to hide and shield everything that laid beneath, just like its owner.

She followed her quietly, with the same strange feeling she always had when she entered a church or a holy place. Diana paced stiffly around the living room, just like she wasn't used to finding herself there either, so Jack mirrored her, letting her eyes wander around, studying every piece of furniture with curiosity.

She was glad that Diana had invited her over, because even if she was considerably more laid-back now, she was still agitated and the silence that fell between them made her thoughts even louder; if she really needed someone to keep her company and soothe her troubled spirit, she felt honored to be the chosen one. Still, Jack needed to know whether her decision had been dictated by a need or a true desire to have her, specifically, around.

"Not that I'm unhappy to be here," Jack murmured. "but haven't you got someone?" She inquired, scanning more purposely all the shelves and empty surfaces: not a photo, nor a group picture or portrait, just pieces of art.

"I've got no one here in London." Diana replied, but the other could easily detect a strange and troubled inflection in her voice, letting her know she was touching some kind of exposed nerve. Maybe her job had brought her away from her family and friends and looking at photographs made her feel nostalgic or sad.

"Where, then?" She asked out of mere curiosity, but them the densely furnished library caught her attention, so much that she didn't even notice the silence coming from Diana herself. "Persian Fire." She read with a little smirk, drawing out a book from its shelf to inspect the cover. Neither the author nor the cover told her anything and yet after knowing Diana, she felt closer to that era and events more than she could've ever imagined.

"Alphabetical order." Diana said after a moment, frowning deeply at her; Jack stared back, confused, with the book still between her fingers. "You're putting it into the wrong place."

The woman nodded, a diverted smile creeping out of her lips as she put back the book exactly where she found it.

"I wasn't going to mess up the whole place, I wouldn't dare." The other joked, stepping away from the library to reduce the distance with Diana, nervously perched on the arm of the perfectly tidy couch.

"I'm a neat freak." She confessed with a grimace, followed by a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry. It's just that I'm still a bit shaken up and, well, it's been a while since someone has been into my apartment."

Jack smiled at her, definitely closing the distance gap between them to put both of her hands above her shoulders. She stood silent for a moment, basking within the slight tremble of her eyes at the dim, yellow light coming from the lamp. It was shocking how easy she was to read, so bold and always perfect on the outside while looking into those blue pools she became an open book – Jack wondered if it was a common thing or just something only she could do.

"Relax." She simply whispered, giving her a gentle squeeze on her shoulders.

Diana sighed and rolled her eyes, fidgeting on the spot, but didn't pull away from Jack.  
"I wish everyone would stop telling me to relax," She muttered sheepishly. "I just can't."

The other woman smiled again, drawing herself even closer.  
"I mean it." She said in a soothing voice. "You're alright."

Jack moved her hand from her shoulder to her neck and she was glad that she'd decided to take off her heels because now they were the same heights. She drew Diana toward her own mouth and, without thinking twice, she pecked a soft kiss on her lips, which the other shyly returned.

Despite the loud thumping of her heart almost cutting her breath, Jack pulled her in into a comforting embrace, her fingers running through her hair, loosening her intricate hairstyle in the process. The woman smiled at the soft perfume coming off her skin, smelling familiar and reassuring.

She stood there, their bodies flattening to one another and seeking each other's warmth, even if the house wasn't cold, quite the opposite perhaps. Jack took a deep breath before reluctantly parting from her, and, immediately, she searched her glance.

Diana looked a lot calmer, but still, it wasn't enough. Jack wanted her to be happy, leave everything that happened behind, enjoy that evening which, once again, wasn't over, not for them; she wanted to make her smile, or laugh if possible and she wanted to properly feel her lips, kiss her the right way, show her everything that could be.

Jack let her eyes wander around the place quickly and, finally, she spotted the kitchen, right behind a low wall that separated the living room from the other room.

"Let's cook something, shall we?" She proposed, her teeth scraping her lower lip with a persuasive expression. "You've barely eaten anything during that so-called dinner."

Diana let the other drag her to her own kitchen by the arm, a mixed expression between amused and surrendered as she tried to guess what she could possibly have in mind.

"My stomach wasn't having it." Justified Diana, her hand absent-mindedly rubbing her own belly which, now, felt uncomfortably empty and indeed seeking for food. She moved to the side and let Jack explore the almost untouched kitchen, feeling guilty and mortified when she watched the woman opening every shelves and cabinet to find them almost completely empty. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I don't have a lot in the house."

Jack seemed indifferent to those words and kept looking for something; finally, she selected a box of unopened pasta and some cherry tomatoes she found in the fridge. Diana even forgot they were there.

"We'll make do." Jack stated confidently, removing her jacket to be more comfortable and free and starting to fumble expertly around with pots and ingredients until it came down to the knives: she took one, studied its blade and pursed her lips, impressed. "Everything looks brand new." She commented.

"Everything _is_ brand new." Corrected Diana, walking backward until the small of her back hit the counter. She put both of her hands on the cold surface and heaved herself up, her bare feet dangling down. "I never use any of those things."

Jack turned dramatically to her, waving the knife into her direction with eccentric motions.

"You're killing me, it's such a waste. Everything is top of the line."

Diana chuckled at that remark, but she knew it was true. When she first moved there, she'd paid someone to furnish her house with everything a person might need and because money wasn't a problem, she'd chosen the best. It didn't bother her that the only few rooms she lived in were the small balcony, the bathroom, seldom the kitchen, but only when she ate her cup noodles or the take outs, and the master bedroom – while the other one she used as nothing more than a storage for all her old books and files.

Before she could even notice, she realized she was staring at Jack for a few minutes. How those heavy knives looked like feathers between her hands, cutting tomatoes with ease and precision it was truly a mystery to her. It was soothing to see her cooking, all the rhythmic noises she produced, put together with the boiling water in the background, were creating a sort of primordial music that reminded her of her first home. Diana found herself smiling at the woman, her mouth already watering at the tempting smell coming from the stoves.

Jack suddenly felt observed and peeked over her own shoulders, throwing a diverted smirk at Diana when she lowered her eyes, guilty, and her cheeks became a shade of a bright red, still clearly visible despite her make-up and weak illumination.

"C'mon, lazy arse, come here and help me; will you?" Jack mocked her, gesturing her to get closer with a soft nod.

Diana bit her lip, considering her proposal for an instant, then, she jumped off the counter and walked to her. She didn't usually like strong language, not even as a joke, and yet Jack had spoken so calmly and had that cheeky smile painted on her lips that brightened up her whole face that Diana didn't even have the time to feel upset and, quite immediately too, she realized that it was impossible to say _no_ to Jack.

"What do you want me to do?" She asked shyly, studying everything that she'd already prepared: the pans, the water, the pasta, and the tomatoes. She wouldn't have even known where to start.

"I need a taster." Jack gingerly stated.

By crossing a little her eyes, Diana could now see that she was holding half of a cherry tomato between her fingers and she'd placed right next to her lips, waiting for her to take a bite. The woman knew Jack wouldn't pull back until she'd tasted it.

She stood still for a moment more before leaning toward her and finally took the tomato between her teeth. Diana swallowed even before tasting the fruit, her eyes incapable of parting from the other woman's concentrated expression as she stared back, her senses alert, ready to detect her reactions. Diana didn't think before taking a proper bite from the tomato, wincing when she realized that she might've done it a little too harshly and now its juice was dripping down her chin.

It was almost as if Jack was counting on it to happen, or maybe she was prepared for anything, seizing the opportunity like she always said she did. The woman got close to her and wiped off the sour liquid from her skin with her lips, quickly finding Diana's mouth, engaging her into a new kiss.

Diana closed her eyes as she let the new sensations settle in. That kiss was different from the previous ones: it wasn't a timid peck on the cheek or mouth, it wasn't a hurried contact driven by the heat of a moment, it was a genuine desire to connect, to deeply bind a person to another, a deed of dedication or a promise for something neither of them could name.

After a few moments, Jack found the courage to follow her most profound longing and tried to enhance the kiss. She sighed when she gladly realized that Diana let her, shadowing her motions with promptness or mere abandon; she never thought the woman was a prude, of course, but being her personality so timid and unquiet she also would never think of her being so ready and passionate in returning her kiss either.

They parted only when the need for air became unbearable, the binding between them growing stronger and never vanishing, transferring from their lips to their eyes, never leaving one another, their glances indissolubly locked.

"It's good." Diana stammered abruptly, her voice high and faltering.

"I think it's good too." Jack confirmed with a little chuckle. She couldn't be sure whether the woman was just talking about the tomato or the kiss, it could be both of course and yet she preferred to leave it hanging there, without an actual closure because, after all, it wasn't needed.

They stared at each other for what it seemed like an eternity, then the faint, sizzling noise of boiling water overflowing from the pot and spilling on the stoves, forced Jack to turn and tend the ingredients properly, assembling the simple dish by putting the tomatoes directly inside the dried pasta.

Diana watched her carefully, her mind racing over the possibilities of asking her to come back other times to show her and teach her how to cook, whether that proposal would've sounded strange or odd or even indecent or too pushy, most of all after such an eventful night. After all, she'd already asked much and Jack had been too kind indulging every single request coming from her – perhaps, yes, she was just being kind. But then again it couldn't be, because there were the kisses, the heart-warming sensations that were just impossible to create by a single person. They must've been connected, somehow, they must've felt the same things and perhaps the only reason why she was feeling so scared and hesitant was that it was the first time not only with a woman but with a person that made her feel that way.

"Thank you." Diana murmured, her plate still almost untouched. Not that she didn't like what Jack had cooked and not even because she wasn't hungry, now, but there was still something she needed to get off her chest before enjoying that quiet moment in her company.

"Oh, it's nothing, really. It's very easy." Jack replied, shoving another forkful of pasta in her mouth; then, raising her glance, she frowned. "You don't like it?"

"No, it's delicious." The other woman chuckled shyly. "I was talking about tonight." She smiled, grabbing the water pitcher and making it clink against her glass as she poured the transparent liquid into their chalices. "It seems like whenever I need someone to hold my hand you're always there since the day we've met."

Jack was staring wide-eyed at her. After a second of silence, she forced herself to swallow a bite that was perhaps just too big and gave her a cheeky smile.  
"I'll always hold your hand if you want me to."

Diana took a sharp breath, her lips helplessly bending into an embarrassed wince at the thought of what she'd just said. It all came out so natural that she didn't even notice her words until Jack hadn't remarked them.

"You know what I mean." She hurriedly whispered, her head bowing slightly down.

"Yes, and I mean it too." Jack retorted, leaning forward on her stall to get closer to the other woman. "You could say it's fate that I'm always there when you need someone to comfort and support you."

Diana lifted her glance to locked it with hers and smile.  
"I was about to say that I was incredibly lucky to meet you at the right time."

"I suppose you can say that too."

When the evening came to an end, it was already past midnight. Sadly, they were both forced to call the night off because they both would have to wake up early and go on with their lives and jobs, like any other day. And yet neither of them was sure that a restful sleep was ahead for them: everything had just been too good and lively and surprising that the tiredness was simply gone. There was too much to think of.

"You'll call?" Diana asked hopeful, her hand grasping the handle of the front door, not quite ready to close it behind the other's back once she would be gone.

"Of course I will." Jack replied, leaning toward her to peck a goodnight kiss on her lips.


	4. Chapter 4 - Lilies

For updates and extras, follow the dedicated blog on Tumblr: _Artemisia x Gorgo [meltemi-artemisiagorgo-300modern]_

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Chapter Four – Lilies

Jack stared at the massive building before her like it was something she'd never seen before in her life; the museum she walked by every morning in the past decades almost foreign to her eyes at the dim light of the sunset.

She sped up her pace, confidently approaching the entrance gates from where the last visitors were being pushed out as the guards urged them to leave.

It was unbelievable how could a simple situation like that one could turn her stomach upside-down. After that wonderful night spent at Diana's apartment, she felt inevitably connected to her and it wasn't just on a physical level: they'd cooked together, kissed and then talked about many things until she left, heading to her house to get changed. All the way, she'd had Diana's taste on her lips and it was like having her around constantly, the mere memory of her, making her heart race and burst with happiness and pride.

She had been both surprised and incredibly glad when that woman appeared in her shop only an hour later, claiming to only want to grab some proper breakfast before work. Jack obliged her, throwing her glances every time she could as she served her clients and found it quite exciting too when Diana pretend not to know her that much, acting cold and quite distant in her smart attire and heavy make-up, despite that smirk she had on her lips. Jack didn't know if she was acting like that because some of her colleagues were there too, having breakfast and a little chat; nonetheless, the girl knew how to play and tease her and Jack was more than happy to give her that.

So when the next morning Diana came back, and the day after that, Jack knew that they'd established a new and titillating routine, something that it was all theirs. It wouldn't pass a day without them meeting, apparently at random, in the bakery and it wouldn't pass a night without Jack calling on her to know how was her day.

It wasn't new for her and yet, for some strange reason she couldn't quite understand, that time was different. Jack sighed, tightening her fingers around what she was holding, making the plastic paper rustle and squeak loudly.  
No, maybe she was just fooling herself, because she knew exactly _what_ was different about that time, but also was afraid to name it in fear it would blow away before her eyes; funny how never before in her life she'd been superstitious, never believing a person could jinx a situation but, on the other hand, why risking it?

Jack went past the entrance gates with confidence, her eyes curious and hungry for everything she spotted: the museum looked so different at night when everyone else was gone, silent, mysterious and heavy with expectations like a haunted house in the middle of a silent forest. She ignored a couple of guards and a cleaner sweeping the marble in front of the main doors and proceeded unworried, almost as if she owned the place. It was so exciting to get invited there – she wondered when was the last time she was there as a visitor, maybe she was in third grade and visiting it with her school and now she couldn't remember the first thing about that – a whole museum all for her to re-discover and she would also have the most lovely company available. Could she be any luckier?

"Ms, the museum is closed."

Jack abruptly turned toward the source of that voice, making the gravel under her feet squeak and crunch under her shoes. She stared for a moment at the man approaching, studying the scowl on his face, and she immediately knew that he would need an explanation for her presence there and fast; she wondered for a moment if Diana would want to make known that they were seeing each other since she practically avoided her in the mornings, but then again her boss knew about them – that they were friends at least – so why a simple guardian would be a problem?

Jack took a deep breath, reminding herself not to become too paranoid. Maybe a woman like Diana could be a bad influence on her personality and she had the moral responsibility not to get affected by it.

"I'm here to see, hum- Diana?" She said, her voice taking the inflection of a question. It was ridiculous how, after everything they had done together, everything they had shared, they still didn't know each other's last names. It was both ridiculous and amusing; maybe the occasion would come later in the future, after all, hence there was no rush: she'd promised to herself to enjoy the whole journey with her, savoring each moment as if it was the last.

"Diana?" The man inquired dubiously, crooking his eyebrow.

Jack winced. Most likely, he wouldn't know a curator's first name and maybe neither did her colleagues since they didn't even try talking to her in the mornings, not that Diana seemed to mind, of course, but it still bothered her.

And yet, even if that situation was slightly uncomfortable for her, now there were much more pressing matters to handle: she didn't know how to persuade the guy; at that point, Jack just hoped that somebody could save her from that and let her pass so she could be with Diana.

"She's with me, Holt. Thank you."

Both Jack and the guy turned their heads to see Diana coming out from the museum, smartly dressed as always, in black or a dark shadow of blue, she couldn't really tell. Her most precious accessory, however, was that elegant and intransigent smile that reassured Jack and made the poor guy back away, feeling perhaps intimidated by her.

It was incredible how many faces that woman could have, well, two as a matter of fact: the ice queen for everyone and just Diana for her, with all the flaws and insecurities and rambling that made her human and gave her personality that somewhat bewitching trait that drew Jack inevitably toward her.

Jack waited for them to be relatively alone before presenting her hand, giving her the bouquet of flowers that she'd tried to hide behind her back – without much result, she supposed.

"These are for you."

Even if Diana had already spotted the flowers, her face and smile lit up nonetheless. Jack felt blessed for such a genuine display of emotion she so rarely saw in others; there was nothing more cliché or simple then flowers and yet it was like Diana's whole day had just been made better. People and relationships – if that was the direction their thing was going – were always a lottery but, so far, it seemed she'd drawn the winning ticket to reach, finally, true happiness.

🏛️

When Diana lead her to her office, she felt even more nervous than the time she'd showed her apartment. Her house was neat and tidy, but still more chaotic than she'd like it to be, especially in specific rooms because she hardly opened those doors; her private office was an entirely different matter: she spent the majority of her time there – that was, when she didn't have to meet tycoons, investors, or just fill in for a guide gone missing and tour around the museum or just assure that everything was fine in her areas – so the whole place was perfect, even to her standards, which were, of course, really high.

Her glass desk had no spots, nor a single grain of dust, her laptop perfectly centered, while on the side she had different notebooks in scaling shapes, capped pens in a black cup in one corner and a hard-cover book of history in the other. All the shelves were tidily filled with binders that looked the same, ordered by years and also alphabetical, some of which were labeled with names of exhibitions, special events, cities from around all the world. The library occupied an entire wall of the office and it was filled as well with books and small objects that clearly belonged to some ancient manufacturing.  
Everything had been meticulously tagged or provided with a small plate that read dates and basic information. It was almost scary, in a way, but also predictable from someone like her.

Diana held the bouquet close to her chest as she let wander her eyes outside through the window, all the cars speeding on the streets, the city lights popping out in the new-sprung darkness that was falling. She wondered what Jack might think of her, even now that she knew that she was a neat freak, that side of her still wasn't easy to show and expose. It was like her office was a place closer to her heart than the apartment itself: after all, that small room contained everything she was, the things and memories that she held dearest – in a display or locked inside the upper drawer of her desk.

Maybe she'd shocked Jack for good. Diana felt like it wasn't like her to stay silent for so long. The woman slowly turned her head to see the other making herself comfortable on one of the two chairs facing the desk, her eyes curiously studying a reproduction of an ancient Greek ship.

"It's very _you_." Jack finally concluded, poking the miniature object with her finger. "I feel like I want to give you a hideous knick-knack and dare you to put it here." She teased, gesturing the middle of the glass desk. "Like one of those statues of the Queen that waves." She winced, amused at her own teasing, holding up her hand and imitating the stiff movement with a slight turn of her wrist.

"You wouldn't dare." Replied Diana with her same smirk, narrowing her eyes as she walked to the cabinet.

"Try me." Jack chuckled, leaning back into the chair to study all her moves.

Diana didn't waste any time before releasing the flowers from their plastic constriction and put it in the water pitcher that was supposed to quench her thirst during the day, which very often, however, remained untouched. She supposed she like the sight of a fancy pitcher filled with water and yet preferred drinking from her personal bottle, leaving that in case she ought to offer a plain drink to somebody, a guest – not that it happened frequently, anyhow.

When she noticed she was traveling with her mind again, Diana swallowed, letting her fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the petals in front of her and smiled when a delicate smell of blooms floated up to her nostrils.

"They're beautiful, thank you." She said again. She didn't even remember the last time she'd received flowers, maybe she never had. Jack was not only the first woman who brought her flower, but also the first person to do it and that made it all even more special. "Does they have a meaning like stones?"

"They do, actually."

Diana turned her head. She carefully watched the other heaving herself up from the chair and walk calmly toward her, a faint smile on her lips and their eyes locked once again.

Jack had talked barely above breath and yet her words still rang inside her head like the distant echo of bells. She waited, holding her breath without even realizing what she was doing when Jack got close to her, by her side, and then slid behind her back in a way that Diana could still see her face smiling at her by peeking over her own shoulders.

"What do they say?" She whispered.  
Diana felt one of her arm slithering under her own, wrapping her middle with ease as Jack settled her chin over her shoulder.

"The lilies?" She asked with a very unconcerned voice. "They say _I dare you to love me_."

The other woman silently gasped, her heart skipping a beat. She turned herself within Jack's gentle hold and frowned slightly.  
"Love?" She asked with a dim, almost frightened voice.

Diana had never really known love. Not the kind Jack was aspiring in the least and only now she was realizing it because loving someone, yes, she had done that, many years ago, but falling in love with someone, well, that was an entirely different matter.

She'd thought through it over and over again in the past few days and stared at the ceiling in the deepest hours of the night thinking what name could have that unstoppable force that drew her closed to Jack. Everything she did remind her of that woman, she'd conquered her thoughts and her heart too, perhaps, because all she wanted was to spend time with her, talk to her, or just do something with her. Really, could she dare to name that force _love_? Could she really let herself fall in love, with a woman nonetheless? The only idea cut her breath and constricted her stomach into a grasp, but then there was that flutter inside, every time her face appeared in front of her eyes. It was something she'd never felt before: it was new, it was alarming and scary, but most of all, yes, exciting. Incredibly so.

Jack smiled again, looking at her reassuringly, almost as if she was able to read her mind, study her doubts and wash them away, almost as if she was the only one who knew how.  
"Yes, _love_." She confirmed, nodding ever-so-slightly. She paused for an instant, just long enough to peck a soft kiss her on her neck, right below her ear, and making her shiver. She sighed and resumed her talking, her voice calm and unworried. "So, what do you want to show me?"

Diana struggled to swallow the lump in her throat and continued to stare at her face as she tried to resume breathing properly, while also slowing down the beating of her racing heart. There was something in those green eyes that always managed to put her spirit at ease; Diana couldn't tell if it was the weird inflection of her voice, hitting low and soothing notes as she talked; the woman only knew that there was something undefined about Jack that always kept her in one piece in every situation: loneliness, melancholy, anxiety, and fear of the unknown simply gone with her. Whatever it was, it worked.

"Come." Diana said finally, her voice cracking a little as she inhaled sharply. She forced a smile on her lips to conceal the clear turmoil that was about to brew inside of her and despite knowing she was failing miserably, she reluctantly parted from her to walk to her desk.

Jack studied her movement with curiosity as she leaned over the glassy surface, frowning when she noticed she'd retrieved a white paper bag. It had nothing written on the side, but the mystery was what made it all incredibly titillating.

She couldn't help the questioning expression that crept on her face, to which Diana only replied with a gentle shaking of her head, her white teeth once again grazing her bottom lip. It was incredible how that woman got so easy to read when no one else was involved: she could almost hear her heart thumping faster as she strived to keep the secret, her impatience to show what she had in mind almost glowing around her like a sort of invisible aura, her excitement reverberating from her body to enter her own.

Suddenly, Jack felt like she was floating, her throat dry and her whole body quivering like a child about to open a Christmas present. So, when Diana stretched her arm and offered her hand, she gladly took it, her heart leaping when she slid her fingers in the little spaces between her own, to find that it was nothing less than a perfect fit, like pieces of a puzzle matching together to create something unexpected and grander.

Diana took her around the empty museum and the woman felt like she was seeing all those things for the first time. As she led her confidently through the aisle and floors, objects of every shapes and era scrolled by her side almost undisturbed. The silence was deafening and she was almost happy for the rhythmic sound of Diana's heels hitting the marble, the echo expanding in all directions, up to the ceiling.

They had the whole museum for them and now that Jack should've felt like walking on holy ground, she was feeling nothing but that strange flapping sensation in her stomach, like every statue or painting was staring right at her, at them, strolling untroubled by them to an unknown destination.

Jack couldn't speak for a long time, which was unusual for her, and yet her eyes could only marvel at that ancient art: each of those pieces came from afar, not only by different lands but from different eras and they'd looked down on so many people through the centuries, they'd studied so many, silently, from their pedestals and from behind their safety ropes. She wondered if they'd ever seen someone like them before: a couple alone, in the middle of the night where no one else was there, strolling hand in hand, with a still unspoken feeling blooming inside each one of their hearts. She wondered, for a moment, which ones were the true marvels to gaze at.

When they finally arrived in the Greek wing, Jack could recognize some of the pieces on display and also figured out where exactly they were, the paths not so foreign anymore. She remembered the gala, with all the people chatting loudly and the obnoxious psychedelic lights that had blinded her while she was searching for a restroom.

Jack smiled helplessly remembering their first encounter, that lucky meeting that had never happened if she hadn't been so clumsy, spilling meringue all over her trousers. It had been a series of coincidences, from Diana having a panic attack and her finding that exact same bathroom among all others, that for a moment, Jack wondered if it hadn't been indeed fate that made all those things happened.

Perhaps Diana was right, in a way, or neither of them was. Maybe fate and luck were indissolubly connected, rather than being the same thing - or two parallels universes never really touching. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been there, acting silly by clasping her hand hard, as if Diana was about to disappear in thin air, following her through the museum eager to discover what the woman had planned for her.

Their destination seemed to be the new Persian wing of the museum. Jack watched in awe all the objects in the displays, so different now that no strange lights were bathing them in a colorful, unnatural glow. She recognized some of them, because whoever had ordered the cake had provided her with a bunch of photos for inspiration, and yet, not everything that served to launch the new wing, that night, was already opened to the public, apparently.

The woman watched carefully as Diana walked confidently toward a white panel covered in printed linen, which perfectly merged with the surroundings, making it all barely visible. She gestured to follow her and, pushing the cloth aside, she revealed a wooden door, which she pushed open after turning a small key. The already enormous Persian wing, evidently, hid an extra area that hosted one of the greatest things Jack had ever seen.

"It's not open to the public yet, it still needs some final touches." Explained Diana with a proud sigh, her eyes glimmering at the sight of the piece. "But other than some details, it's finished."

"It's beautiful." Jack whispered, her voice cracking. She couldn't believe that such thing was lying in wait right beyond that thin curtain, a full ship, a perfect replica of a Persian one, with sails and thick rowing and ropes running everywhere. "It's bigger than the one on my cake." She chuckled, still incredulous, as she walked closer to it.

"And you haven't seen the best part or- heard."

Jack frowned, profoundly curious and tried to stretch her neck as far as she could when Diana disappeared behind a corner. All of a sudden, a metallic, recorded voice filled the whole area at full volume:

_IN A TIME OF ANCIENT GODS..._

"What the fuck..?" Jack's first instinct was to cover her ears, caught off guards.

"Language!" Lectured Diana with a scowl, her head popping out from behind a curtain. "I'm sorry I just happened to press the wrong button."

After a few seconds, the deafening voice was replaced by a soothing sound of waves crashing against the shores, distant callings of seagulls and all the sounds and noises typical of the sea. It was like being out in the ocean, Jack was sure she could even smell the salty air, if she thought of it hard enough.

Her eyes fixed on the boat, and with a hesitant hand, she stretched her fingers to touch the surface. It was smooth and cold, as if was made of metal.

"Come on." Spurred Diana with an enthusiastic voice, making the other woman jump.

"Don't do that!" She protested. They both chuckled when she slowly took a breath, but after all, it was an instinctive reflex: they were in a museum and commonly it people weren't allowed to touch the props.

And yet, following her with her glance, Jack realized that she couldn't be more wrong: Diana was climbing up a small ladder to actually mount on the ship, like it was an actual and a proper one, just not floating in the water. The woman stared, blinking multiple times to shake off some odd images that her mind immediately created, most likely caused by Diana's speech, which was still haunting her, in a good way, of course.

"Come join me, would you? Or do you prefer staying there?" She asked with a wide smile, her elbow resting on the railing.

Jack mirrored her expression and in a blink of an eye, she was by her side, enjoying the view from the front of the ship, sitting cross-legged and impatiently waiting for Diana to reveal the mysterious content of her white paper bag.

Again, even if they were both sitting basically on the floor, they still looked so different: Diana had both of her legs on one side of her, her knees touching. Probably it was her only option since she was wearing a skirt, like always, and yet Jack felt that it would've been her position even with trousers on. She was always different, looking elegant and refined without even trying – it was a thing she liked about her.

Jack had thought that the bag might've treasured a gift for her, she couldn't think of anything specific really, but of all the things she could imagine, the last thing was a tray of fine-looking sushi, complete with everything they might've needed, chopstick and sauces. Diana took her time to arrange everything nicely in the middle as if she was settling a very special dinner table.

Jack was speechless: she'd planned a dinner for the two of them; it had all happened so abruptly and so unexpectedly that she didn't even notice it was happening.

"You made this?" She questioned with an impressed frown, her mind still troubling to process everything: really she was about to have a sushi dinner on a museum real-life size replica of an ancient Persian boat? It was wild to even think about it.

"Heavens no." Diana replied with a guilty smile. "I would've set the kitchen on fire."

Jack threw her an unimpressed look, but still, a smirk appeared on her lips.  
"Diana, it's sushi." She remarked. It was nothing more than raw fish nicely arranged.

"I know, but you still have to boil the rice." The other shrugged, matter-of-factly.

That was true in a way, but Jack couldn't fully believe how a person could mess up with just boiling some rice. Diana was no chef, she knew that by now, but that whole situation only made Jack desire to teach her something and cook by her side even more strong.

They started to eat soon after, a soothing silence between them that neither of them didn't even acknowledge. They both seemed quite content with just glance at each other, throwing hidden smiles between bites, and then, suddenly, Jack felt a frightening realization sinking to the pit of her stomach: she was the one who'd tried to kiss her on the very first night, but other than that, Diana was the first one to call – and that was natural, because she was the one with the number – but also the first one to ask her out, twice nonetheless, and now she'd organized that special dinner just for the two of them. It was quite embarrassing.

"What?" Diana was staring at her wide-eyed now. She was sure that her face had betrayed her feelings and yet the last thing she wanted was to make her nervous. "Does something taste bad?" She asked immediately, alarmed. "Is it not fresh?"

"No." Replied Jack dismissively, swallowing the last bite and staring intensively into her eyes. "It's just that- you're beating me, you know?"

Diana frowned, staring back herself, completely befuddled.  
"Beating you?"

"Usually I'm the one who courts a girl." Jack sighed, looking positively distraught. Yes, she still had the primacy over their first kisses – both the attempted and the proper one – she still was the first one who brought flowers, but it was Diana who begun, and was still proposing, all the things that commonly belonged to a courtship, first. It was like they'd tacitly agreed on share out the games: Diana was given the romantic part, the gentle and sweet flirting while Jack was entrusted with the physical and bold part of making sure that not only their souls were connecting, but also showing on a more physical level. Not that she minded, of course. It was like they were two halves of the same thing that worked perfectly well, together and inevitably lacking something separately.

"And usually I'm the one who _gets_ courted." Retorted Diana with a shy smirk, lowering her head so that her smile was concealed from the other woman's green eyes. She took a small breath, her teeth nibbled for a moment on her lip, then she resumed her talking, her voice barely more than a whisper and yet it was so loud and strong, to Jack's ears. "But, I wanted everything to be a first, with you. I want everything to be special."

"It _is_ special." Jack agreed with a little wince.

"Believe me, I went through it hundreds of times in my head because I've never invited anyone out for dinner." She sighed, eyeing for a moment the tray that still laid between them "And it's not even a proper dinner, but-"

"Will you stop talking already?" Jack interrupted with a chuckle, her hand moving with a swift movement to cup her cheek. "It's perfect."

Diana remained still for a moment. She hadn't had someone cupping her face in a very long time and not once she remembered to be so gentle and soft; the touch of a woman's hand was so distant in her memories but even if that gesture could remind her of another time, she knew that, with Jack, every feeling was different.

Jack quite immediately realized that it would be difficult to just part from her. Her skin had a velvet sensation underneath her pads, the flutter of her lashes was captivating and her lips looked so tantalizing that she could only think of kissing her, once, twice and forever. She took a small breath and leaned forward, only to be interrupted by the ghastly sound of a bell.

Jack pulled back, frowning when she noticed that the other woman had closed her eyes and sighed heavily, looking abated rather than surprised or taken aback.

"What was that?" Jack asked.

Diana bit the inside of her cheek and forced herself to smile.  
"Just the night shift guards warning the ones who work late that the gates are closing in fifteen minutes." She explained and, diverting her glance, she took a moment to let her eyes wander around. "I didn't realize it was so late."

"Oh." Was the only thing Jack could say. How much time did it pass, really? It felt like five minutes ago that she entered the museum and now they were about to be kicked out. She was not ready to call the night off yet – she wanted more time with her. She wanted to talk and just be with her and oh, much she wanted to _kiss_ her. But perhaps, regretfully, that wasn't the right time to push such good luck that brought them together so perfectly – of fate.

She waited for Diana to turn off the record and helped her gather the dishes and water bottles, checking twice as they left whether everything was in its place. She escorted Jack back to her office before actually leaving the museum so she could gather a few things and her laptop.

Jack felt incredibly sad as they silently walked side by side toward the frontal gates. It was like their time was running out for the night and still, there was something that it was yet to come; it was so late and yet she didn't feel tired at all. She could think about the bakery and her job, as well as the fact that probably Diana would've had to wake up early tomorrow and yet she just couldn't wrap her head completely around the concept: she just wanted to stay with her, prolong being in her company just even for five minutes more.

Jack would've given anything to just spend the rest of the night with her, just looking in her eyes and even more to wake up by her side. But on that, of course, she could daydream about for as long as she wanted.

"Can I walk you home?" She asked as soon as they stepped outside the museum's surrounding walls. Despite being summer, the streets were empty except for a few cars; honestly, it wasn't a very reassuring sight nor situation. Maybe it was fate – or her good luck – giving her an opportunity. "I don't exactly fancy the idea of you going all the way back to your place alone at this ghastly hour."

"But I do that all the time." Promptly replied Diana, a confused frown crumpling up her expression. "It's sweet of you, but you don't need to worry. I'll grab a cab."

"There are no cabs around now, of course I'll worry." The other pointed out.

"After we get to my place you'll have to come back and then _I_'ll worry."

Jack stared at her blankly. She did make sense, but it was the first time someone had made that remark. She was usually the one caring for the others, not the other way around.

"Let's go to my place, then." Jack suddenly blurted out like it was the most natural thing to say. "It's above the bakery, it'll get not more than two minutes to get there. No one needs to move and we'll get to spend more time together, unless- you don't want to." The woman said, biting her own tongue to stop talking. Who was the one rambling out of impatience and anxiety, now? She always felt so confident and now she was acting like a fool right in front of her. It was ironical.

"It's rather late." Diana replied in a small voice.

Jack almost immediately opened back her eyes and studied her features: her eyes were shimmering of a strange light now, her breathing had increased, her teeth nibbling nervously at her lip. The woman suddenly realized how wrong and deceiving her words could've sounded to someone who was outside her head. And if Diana was thinking what she was thinking right now, it was disastrous: Jack could only imagine the types of things swirling into her head, making her dizzy with worry and non-existing troubles, for which the woman was an expert. The last thing Jack wanted was to put her in a difficult situation.

"We don't have to do anything." She immediately said with an embarrassed wince, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her eyes eager to lock in hers, to see Diana's face relaxed and trusting again. She really hoped she hadn't actually made it worse "I just want to stay with you a little longer." She confessed, swallowing a small lump in her throat. "I know it's late, we could relax and sleep."

Diana finally lift her glance again and their eyes met. She was smiling now, the blurred veil of uneasiness completely gone from her face.

"Just sleep?" She asked with a hinted smirk.

"Just sleep." Confirmed Jack with a genuine smile. Seeing her face relaxed again had made her happy.

Diana stood still for a moment, studying the other woman's expression from up close. There had been so much going on through her mind in the past few minutes, a swirl of incoherent thoughts that she hadn't been able to stop or put in a logical order; as always, fear had its best over her and made her doubt even Jack's good intentions.

Of course, she wanted to spend more time with her. She usually hated that bell because it meant that she was about to leave her favorite place in the world, but she'd never hated that bell, as she hated it that night, because it meant parting from Jack.

Maybe it would've been a misfortune that the cabbies had decided to go on strike right on that night or perhaps it was just her beloved fate giving her the opportunity to indulge and follow what could be a little whim, the deep desire of spending more time with Jack.

Could she dare to say _yes_ to something so unexpected and unplanned? She hadn't prepared the first thing to spend the night out and yet she wasn't feeling anxious, not when Jack was waiting for her, begging with her eyes for her to say that fateful _yes_.  
The more she thought about it, the less sense it made, the more exciting it got.  
Diana let her lips bend up in a bright smile and after a little hesitation, she nodded.

🏛️

Walking back the same sidewalk of the first night brought back memories, but also it was creating some others: now that she wasn't running away from the blinding flashes of cameras, she could actually enjoy the little stroll that separated the museum from the bakery.

Diana felt incredibly curious to see how that woman had organized her home because unlike her, she was not only a creative type, but she put a little bit of herself in everything she did, starting from her job and ending with her lively interactions with people; she envied her boldness, her being extrovert and so prone to show her emotions, whether they were good or bad, making her impossible to misread.

Jack lead her through the empty bakery, the buzz of the machines once again teasing her ears with sweet memories of that unexpected night. They went behind the counter toward the back of the store and then into a cramped corridor that led to a narrow set of the spiral staircase.

Diana looked around with hungry eyes, trying to define shapes and things through the dim lights that came from flickering bulbs pending from the ceiling. Everything about that place reminded her of the forgotten archives in the basements of the museum - the poor lighting, the cramped spaces, the feeling of getting lost inside a labyrinth every time she walked around a corner. Of course, that place was nothing mysterious like the vaults, and at the top of those stairs, there was a squared door cut out of wood.

She waited patiently for Jack to open it and slid inside first.

"Come in." The woman said enthusiastically, despite the slight wince of doubt that was painted on her face. "I know it's not much, but it's home." She added in a small voice.

"I like it. It's very you."

Diana smiled around the small place, so different from her apartment and not just only for the furniture. On the right, instead of the big island kitchen she had, there was a bunch of shelves with everything she might need, a small oven and a sink for the dishes. There was a small armchair in the largest area in the middle of the place, a TV hanged on the wall and a small library filled with cooking books beside it; a white door that must've been the bathroom in the front, while the bed rested on a loft far about four feet from the ceiling. Despite being small and full of stuff, it was bright and comfy and Diana felt immediately at home, even more than she felt home in her own house: that place perfectly resembled her owner and just the smell of pastries and the colorful décor managed to put her at ease. Maybe she should've renovated her own apartment and threw away all the anonymous or neutral stuff she had in it.

"I'll get changed, you make yourself comfortable." Said Jack after a minute, throwing the keys into a tiny plate beside the entrance and disappearing right after inside the white door.

Diana could only peek inside the room for one moment and realized that it was indeed the bathroom. She sighed and removed her heels first, closing her eyes for a moment at the pleasant sensation; she put her shoes next to Jack's and put her bag and laptop on the table, her ears tensing at the sound of the rushing water coming from the adjacent room.

Was she really there? Into Jack's apartment, about to spend the night out in her company? The sole idea made her heart tighten in excitement, she was feeling proud of herself for agreeing into such a spontaneous engagement and yet, suddenly, she realized that she did something reckless for once, but the consequence of doing it without single planning was that now she was not ready. The reality was about to wash over her like a cold wave: she had no clothes for the night, not to mention clean ones for the day to come. Could she borrow some of Jack's clothes? Was the woman about to lend her one of her casual shirts of ripped jeans? It was going to be a disaster.

"I guess another shirt wouldn't do for you." Said Jack sheepishly while exiting the bathroom wearing an oversized, wrinkled shirt that she clearly used to sleep.

Diana was genuinely befuddled. She would have paid to have the same confidence of walking around in just a shirt, her legs bare from the middle-thigh down and with nothing on her feet while a stranger, practically, was close by.

"But I think I still have the camisole my mother gave me for Christmas lying around somewhere." She mumbled digging into a drawer until she pulled out a blue nightgown of fine material. Diana frowned at the unusual piece of cloth – it was the last thing she thought she would find there – but took it nonetheless, the mere idea of sleeping in her day clothes, and risking ruining them - or even worse, in her bra and underwear - simply unacceptable.

Jack ruffled her own hair with her fingers and fold her arms over her chest with a hesitant frown on her lips.  
"Want to watch some TV before going to bed or..?" She shrugged, leaving the sentence hanging there.

Diana gave her a shy smile and a gentle shaking of her head.  
"No, it's-"

"Late, I know." It was past midnight, she was right; she would have to open her bakery in the morning and Diana was being the most responsible. However, Jack didn't feel tired at all; she wanted to talk with her even time wasn't on their side, or just stare at her, without saying a word – one thing for sure, she would think about her all night like a fairytale before trying to fall asleep. The woman sighed and flopped on the small armchair.

Diana stared with a diverted smile; she believed she'd never seen Jack pout before, but she had to admit that she looked quite endearing. She was about to go into the bathroom to get changed herself when she noticed that Jack was not only sitting in there, she was curling herself up and placing her head on her bent arm, forcing her eyes closed.

She stopped dead and frowned down at her blankly.  
"What are you doing?"

Jack abruptly shot her eyes open, replying at her frown with a surprised expression.  
"I'm getting ready to sleep." She mumbled matter-of-factly with a little shrug of her shoulders.

"You don't even fit in there!" The other woman remarked, her voice touching a high note at the end, which enhanced her bewilderment.

Jack turned her head as much as she could to face her, a little smirk painted on her face as she stared at the woman still fully clothed with her brand new camisole in her hand, half-heading toward her bathroom. Of course she was accustomed to the best, her apartment was enormous compared to hers, but her loft was what it was, she didn't have any other choices.

"I don't fancy sleeping on the floor nor in the bathtub – not that I have one." Jack said gleefully, her eyebrows almost touching the line of her hair as she studied Diana's reaction to her words. "And you're the guest, so I can't have you sleeping in here!"

"Don't be silly, there's a whole bed up there! We'll share." Diana replied without hesitation, gesturing at the loft above the kitchen that hosted the mattress.

Jack stared back. Out of all the things she was expecting from that little conversation, she would've never believed it to finish with a bed-sharing – not even in her wildest dreams. The mere idea made her feel aflutter and happy inside, the thought of having her near, of waking up next to her in the morning simply heart-warming.

"Are you sure?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, her eyes incapable of leaving hers.

"Well, yes." Replied the other. "If we're sleeping."

"Of course." Jack smirked; even if she wasn't in plain light, her cheeks were definitely of a brighter shade of pink.

🏛️

To her great surprise, Jack woke up to a light tapping that she couldn't identify. She didn't even remember falling asleep, nor sleeping in the first place, for the matter. The last thing in her mind she could grasp was climbing up that small ladder to get to the loft and crawl into bed like every night, except that the other side of the mattress wasn't empty as usual.

She'd taken time to glance at the gentle shape of Diana's body beneath the linen, wondering how could she sleep with the sheets on in the middle of summer: despite not being so hot, she's always thought that her loft was rather warm in general. Jack laid down on her side of the bed and closed her eyes for a moment, just for a moment, picturing Diana's face before losing track of time and of herself.

And now that she was coming back to her senses, she was realizing that she hadn't slept so well in months, maybe not even in years; she was feeling relaxed and rested and also eager to start the day with a strange feeling at the pit of her stomach, now that the thought of not being alone was settling in her mind more and more concretely: Diana wasn't only in her dreams or in her memories, she was there, in her apartment.

Jack smiled absent-mindedly to herself and tried to isolate that dreadful tapping from her ears. She hesitantly stretched her arm just to have an excuse to feel the warmth of her body still inside her bed, and yet she could only touch more sheets and a pillow and then the edge of the mattress. The woman frowned, sitting up in the bed only half awake.

She narrowed her eyes, cursing herself for forgetting to draw the blinders the previous night, and rubbed her eyes, hardly suppressing a yawn. Slowly, the blurred shapes around her became neat and properly visible.

So that was the source of that irritating sound: giving her back, Diana was sitting with her legs crossed on the edge of her bed with her computer on her lap, typing away undisturbed.

She was still wearing the blue camisole she gave her and one of the thin straps had fallen off her shoulder, but Diana didn't seem to notice or was too caught up with her typing to bother. She was beautiful so focused on her laptop that for a moment Jack thought of not to say a word and just keep watching her in silence, but then she decided not to, because she couldn't resist hearing her voice again, even just to make sure that she wasn't still dreaming.

"What time is it?" She asked with a sort of a drunken slur.

Diana straightened her back alarmed. She gasped silently and immediately fumbled with her laptop like a thief caught on the crime scene; then, quickly, she brought her hand to her face and yanked off her glasses just to shove them in her bag. She hoped she hadn't ruined them with her harshness and held her breath for a moment.

"Six thirty-five." She managed to say with an unworried voice, narrowing her eyes to read the correct time in the low angle.

Jack gave her a loud snort.  
"In the morning? Are you nuts? What are you doing?" The woman whined, covering her face with both of her hands. She was not definitely a morning person and despite not feeling tired, she also felt that it was some unholy hour to wake up.

"Paperwork." Diana simply replied.

"You've got paperwork? It's Sunday."

Diana couldn't help but smile at that little remark. Yes, it was Sunday, which only meant more work because of the tourists. She took a small breath, trying to read some more without her glasses on, but when she noticed that it was no use, she closed her laptop and sighed.

"The weekends are wild, I have to schedule a lot of stuff." She declared and, wincing back at Jack, she only felt a wave of sadness washing over her: for how much she despised that thought, she needed to leave for the museum. "I have to go."

"Stay." Jack abruptly retorted, putting her hands down and revealing a deadly serious face.

"I'd love to, but I've got things to do." She sadly replied, slowly putting away all her belongings. She was usually slow with all her things, but now she wondered if she was unwillingly taking extra time to stay a little longer with her – and why not? The only idea of parting from her was painful and made her think of the next time she could meet Jack again.

"Like what?" Jack asked again with a frown.

"Like going to work?" The other giggled, shaking her head.

"Don't you guys take shifts?"

"Not me."

Jack studied her for a quick second before shower her with more questions and proposals just to keep her there. Just a little longer to have breakfast together, walking her to the museum, that was all she asked.  
"Take the day off."

Diana looked at her almost outraged.  
"Most certainly not." She replied. It was more likely to get snow in summer than to her to skip a day of work. "Also, I need clean clothes."

"What's wrong with the ones you wore yesterday?"

"I wore them yesterday." Diana said in a song-like voice, a diverted smile shining on her mouth. "You get horribly irritating in the morning, are you aware of that?"

"Maybe." Jack mumbled back, crawling out of the bed with a reluctant groan. "You can keep the nightgown if you like it – it's new." She said, throwing one last glance at her before climbing down the ladder and waiting for her to come out of the bathroom after changing back into her day clothes.

"Thank you." Diana gave her a shy smile, offering the camisole back. "You keep it. Maybe I'll need it next time."

Jack took the cloth with a gentle nod. Did her heart stop pumping blood around her body or was it thumping so fast that it was impossible to make out each beating? Did she really say that, that she would be back, some time, in her apartment? Did she really imply that she planned to spend another night - or multiple nights - at hers? Was Jack overthinking and daydreaming again or could she dare to believe it was all true?

The small walk from the loft to the bakery was short, of course, and for the first time, Jack hated that place. She took more than necessary to open the windows and the gates from the inside and took advantage of that couple of minutes to make her coffee, putting the dark and smoking liquid into a travel paper cup.

She stretched her hand and waited patiently for her to grasp it and to Jack's surprise, not only she took the coffee, but also leaned toward her to peck a soft kiss on her lips.

"Thanks." She whispered.

It was the first time that Diana initiated a kiss and despite the contact being gentle and quick, it was able to make the other woman's heart leap. She watched her in silence as she turned, heading toward the exit door, her whole body feeling suddenly spent – how could she even take away all her spirit by leaving the room? Jack wished she could take control of the time and make it go slower, or quicker, even so, they could meet again. And then, of course, she would call her during her lunch break as always, and also before going to sleep, like every night.

At that thought, Jack's spirit seemed to have found back some enlivening. She smiled and took a small breath, suddenly realizing that she would have let her leave without even saying goodbye or wishing her a good day.

"I'll call you tonight, babe." She blurted out, her lips moving on their own, even faster than her brain. When Jack processed what she actually just said, her smile brightened up even more: she was not regretting a thing, she actually felt proud and happy, for once, that her brain had gotten slower and her heart spoke in its stead. "What?" She asked after a minute, a sly expression hardly concealed on her face.

Diana was peeking at her from over her shoulder, only half turned, like a frozen statue. She was staring at her blankly, her lips slightly parted and seemingly unable to move.  
"Nothing." She mumbled, her voice uncertain.

Jack tilted her head to the side, gazing at her silently for a moment, the weak sunbeams of early morning coming through the window making her skin glow. The woman could almost tell that hadn't been called that way in a long time, maybe even ever; the reaction was priceless.  
"Ah, look at you blushing." She murmured with a fond smile.

Diana took a sharp breath, rearranging the bag over her shoulder. She swallowed and forced herself to blink, trying to look collected and perfectly unconcerned by the warm feeling that was now blooming inside of her. She'd accepted to be read like a book by now, but the remark made everything difficult – Jack was teasing her in the most vicious of ways and still wasn't resentful, just extremely overwhelmed by unknown emotions. She wanted to look calm more than anything but she quickly realized that it would be impossible.

She absent-mindedly cleared her throat and peeked in the mirror on the side of the wall with the corner of her eye; seeing that her cheeks were indeed red, she gasped silently and bowed her head before simply fleeing out of the shop.


	5. Chapter 5 - Kylronan

For updates and extras, follow the dedicated blog on Tumblr: _Artemisia x Gorgo [meltemi-artemisiagorgo-300modern]_

* * *

Chapter Five – Kylronan

Days passed so quickly that it was even hard to acknowledge them. Diana woke up early and in a blink of an eye it was sunset again and she was staring from the balcony; she was almost amazed by the sun hiding behind the building as she talked and smiled over the phone with Jack. The woman, on the other hand, would go to sleep just to wake up in the mornings feeling refreshed and eager to start the day, impatiently waiting for Diana to enter her shop to have breakfast.

Jack took the habit of taking a little break around lunch so she could keep her company over the phone, often even face-timing when it was quiet enough, pretending they were both eating in the same spot, chatting peacefully about everything. It could be silly, seen it from the outside and yet they quickly realized that neither of them could do without it anymore – the habit became a reassuring routine that was entirely theirs.

Diana wasn't always the last to leave the museum anymore. It was the first time she didn't feel anxious or sad leaving her office right after the closure, the thought of spending some time with Jack washing her worries and sorrows away and replace every negative thought with a sense of profound happiness.

They often hang out for a drink to talk about their jobs or the strange people they'd encountered who never seemed to cease. They almost never went out to eat, preferring to retire at Diana or Jack's just to have some quiet and alone time, which would be almost impossible to achieve in a restaurant. Jack would often cook for her while she would watch and learn and ask questions as she sat on the counter by her side or stood perched on the high chair with her chin between her hands.

Diana loved how their lives had started to intertwine, slowly at first, with little things and now it was almost natural for her to think of Jack whenever she could, planning everything in her day so she could spend more time with her. First, it was starting her morning by going to the bakery to have breakfast, then lunches, then dinners at home and sometimes, when time seemed to slip through their fingers without them noticing, they would sleep in each other's apartments to avoid wasting more hours of rest.

Everything seemed to go so smoothly and she was feeling so happy and finally, maybe for the first time in her entire life, even balanced, in some way. And yet she also felt that what they had wasn't enough. Diana only could adore Jack to let her having her own times, never forcing her into anything because Jack would patiently wait for her to clear her mind and make the decisions. It all went splendidly until then and Diana felt it would've gone splendidly for other weeks, but it just wasn't enough.

She could say Jack was her best friend, the one who supported her and comforted her, the one who would've taken care of her always. The one, however, who made her feel like floating in thin air when she was holding her hand, the one she kissed with thousands of butterfly flapping frenetically inside her stomach, the one who made her peaceful and thrilled at the same time – the one who couldn't spend a day without.  
The one who clearly had passed the _friend_ boundary.

Diana took a deep breath as she walked down the street, her heels hitting the paving with overly confident and wide strides as she headed to the bakery. Her stomach was turned, the last thing she could think of was having breakfast, while Jack was the only thought crowding her brain.

She was about to make her decision, finally, after weeks. She was about to speak up for herself, maybe changing not only hers but even another person's life forever: whatever they were having, it needed to end – or to transform to better say, and Diana was determined to set things straight once and for all. It would've been a new day, a fresh start to keep things exactly how they were and also give them a brand new meaning.

Diana struggled to keep the beating of her heart under control and forced herself to breathe through her nose rather than to arrive panting at the shop and giving away her intentions, even if she was quite sure that Jack would read her like always even before speaking.

She was glad that Jack could do that without the smallest effort because talking had become redundant between them and it made her feel completely at ease.  
That specific time, however, Diana had stayed up all night rehearsing her speech in her head and she was feeling ready to express everything she felt and how she intended to act upon it, hoping and believing, of course, that Jack would feel exactly the same.

She was positively ready and eager to start and show Jack her engagement, so when she saw the woman outside her shop, pulling down the gates over the bakery, her heart dropped, a sense of dismay overwhelming her whole self.

Diana continued to stare at her, narrowing her eyes behind her sunglasses as she got closer, while Jack seemed to be completely unaware of her presence.

A swirl of emotions and thoughts of every kind started to spin inside her mind in an infinite loop of terrifying questions and hypothesis; she just couldn't believe her eyes: she was officially closing the bakery and the sign telling the date of reopening confirmed that thought. The only remaining question was _why_.

"You're going away?" She asked with a dim voice, without even bothering to say _hi_. Diana herself didn't know whether to feel sad or angry or preoccupied even, or simply remain lost in her unawareness.

Jack got startled as soon as she heard her voice and she turned abruptly to face her.

"Hey." She mumbled, checking one last time the bakery to see if everything was alright. Her face, however, didn't bear any sign of discomfort or guilt, as she wasn't hiding anything indeed. "Yes, but it's just for a few days." She said, gesturing toward the sign: it read seven days of absence starting today.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Diana frowned, looking at her in daunt. If she was about to leave town – of course, why else she would be closing if her home was just above the bakery – she had the right to know. Where and, most of all, why didn't she even hint about a trip during one of their many calls or just a couple of days before, when they dined together at her apartment?

"I was about to do it." Winced Jack sheepishly, now looking guilty. "I needed to close the bakery and I was on my way to the museum to meet you there."

"Is there something wrong?" Asked the other getting closer to study her face. As strange as it might've seemed, she didn't know a thing about her family, but surely she had to have one; not everybody was like her, luckily. Perhaps something happened and she had to leave in haste.

"No, don't worry: it's just an annual trip to the countryside." Jack shook her head with a smile. "I should've told you, I'm sorry but it completely slipped my mind. These days I've got my head in the clouds for _some_ reason."

Diana couldn't help smiling at the last remark. A normal person should've been angry, she knew that, but on the other hand, she just couldn't: Jack had that power over her.

And yet, she couldn't just let her go, not now that she'd gathered enough boldness and courage to talk to her about them, together, whatever they were. Jack just couldn't be gone now that she'd finally made up her mind, just when she'd finally found the courage to just live what they had. When she was willing to just let go of the tension, of the thoughts to unleash her emotion, let them run free and accept whatever they might bring.

If she was ready to tell her all that, she simply had to have the courage to avoid the moment pass. After all, if it was a normal annual trip to the countryside, as she'd call it, it wouldn't be a problem for her to have company unless she didn't want to; perhaps she was going to someone. No, she was overthinking again. Either way, she was about to find out.

"You think.. I could come with you?" She winced, nervously pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. She had to think positive, she owed it to herself, and then, how beautiful it would've been if they would indeed talk about the future during a peaceful trip to the country? The thought brightened her spirit even more.

"Really?" Asked Jack almost disbelieving, a wide smile on her lips.

"If you'll have me." She tried to sound convincing and shrugged timidly.

"Really, could you come?" The other asked again, almost as if she was checking if she'd heard right the first time. When Diana slightly nodded, without saying anything, she crossed her arms, a pleased expression on her face. "What about the museum?"

"I could easily take the whole year off if I'd want to. I haven't take a vacation nor a sick day since I work there." She stated matter-of-factly, her pride perfectly concealed behind a modest smirk.

"Not one?"

"Not one."

Jack stared at her, impressed. She could easily picture her arriving first and leaving her office last for years, and she was also glad that she wasn't doing it anymore since they'd met, along with scheduling shifts with her collogues. It was actually a nice thing to know that she'd never needed to take a day off because she was sick, but not even a vacation? That couldn't possibly be healthy, not physically nor mentally; no wonders she was so stressed all the time.

"Wasn't you the one who didn't want to take days off?" She teased, but in reality, she was proud of her, cause she was on the good path to change something even more radical in her life.

"I thought I could make an exception." Diana smiled, pursing slightly her lips.

"You thought well." Jack praised with a grin. "Do come, I'd love to show you around."

🏛️

They took a cab to get to Diana's apartment so she could pack her things for the week out. She felt quite strange at the thought of leaving her house for so long because since she moved in London, she'd never left that place for more than one day and in that cause it was because of work. Now that she was leaving for a trip and rather unexpectedly too, she felt her stomach grasped within a steel hold.

When was the last time she'd gone out with somebody for a vacation? Maybe she'd never done that, except for very rare school trips which had revealed to be dull or useless most of the times. Her memories about real vacations were blurred and distant and even if they brought happiness for a few moments, then the void would take over, leaving her hollow and lonely.

She struggled to push the thought back in her mind and dug herself even more into the wardrobe, inspecting with a critical eye each piece of cloth hanging on the crutches or resting undisturbed inside their bags. Had she even been in the countryside in the first place? To spend time relaxing in the great outdoors? Maybe she had never even walked in a wood, ever in her life. Diana sighed and took every long pants, of an enough durable fabric that could be used somewhere outside the safe environment of the city, boots, and shirts.

She tried not to think too much about the small backpack that Jack had brought with her, deciding that maybe she'd shoved everything she needed in there with some intricate tetris to avoid wasting space and continued with her selections.

Jack, on the other hand, was waiting patiently for her, already on the go, her shoulder leaning on the door frame and her eyes fixed on her every movement, half-concealing a mix of judging and diverted expression on her face. She might have not given enough information about the trip, but why on earth the woman needed so much luggage? It was only seven days, what was the trolley for? Jack straightened her back after a few moments and sighed loudly to get her attention.

"Pack the essential, you won't need much anyway."

"It's for seven days." Diana pointed out, staring blankly at her. "It could rain, it could be cold.. or hot. I need to be prepared for every occasion." She said confidently, eyeing again the backpack Jack had on her shoulders. They were in her apartment an hour already and she didn't even bother to put it down for five minutes – she was strong, yes, but she had no reason to keep it on unless it was incredibly light.

"Don't worry! I have wardrobes full of clothes that are clearly your style. It would be such a waste to let those things there collecting dust. I could lend you some, or you can take them all, in fact."

Diana stopped dead as she'd suddenly turned into ice. Those words just didn't make sense to her: if they were about to go to the countryside for a seven days trip, why would she mention clothes and wardrobes? Unless they weren't going into just any countryside. Now that she thought about it, Jack mentioned a family property in the North.

"Where are we going, exactly?" She asked with an emotionless voice.

Jack frowned at that and winced with a guilty expression; it might be her fault she'd forgotten to tell precisely the destination, but on the other hand, she thought Diana had connected the dots, by now. "Haven't I told you? It's my mother's birthday and she's throwing this fancy party every year. I'm sure I told you it was approaching."

"No, you didn't!" Objected the other, widening her eyes.

"Yes, I did! The other night when you insisted on watching Discovery Channel!"

"You can't pretend I'm listening to you while Discovery Channel is on!" She whined. "It was a history special!" Diana swallowed hard, her blue eyes sparkling as her breathing rate increased. That peaceful trip in the nature that she'd had in mind until then simply disappeared into thin air, replaced by the unwelcome idea of going into her family house all up in the North… and not only that, because she'd be also engaged into a birthday party in a few days and a fancy one, for Jack's mother nonetheless. She needed time to prepare for that and now she was feeling cornered. "I'm about to meet your parents?" She asked with a chocked breath, her hand flying to her chest.

Jack shrugged, watching her from up close, her mind trying to decide whether she needed to intervene and reassure Diana or let her cope and process the information by herself; it wasn't the end of the world, of course, but for a person like her, situations similar to that one might've been a slightly different matter.

"Just my mother." She answered calmly, trying to let her know that there was nothing particular to fear.

And yet, evidently, Diana saw things that just weren't there for her, making the prospect of meeting her mother quite frightening, almost as if she was about to give an unplanned speech in front of important investors. It pained her, in a way, to see Diana so scared of being judged and put up to the test for every little thing, but on the other hand it was what made Diana herself, unique and constantly seeking for a rock to lean on – Jack was more than ready to be just that, for her.

"You should've told me that." She complained. "Oh my God, I'm sweating already." She lamented, her voice trailing off.

"You mean you don't want to come with me anymore?" Jack asked with a deeper frown.

"No, yes.. I don't know." The other mumbled back in confusion.

Jack couldn't help smiling at that point. She didn't fully understand her frenzied state nor why did she felt constantly under an invisible trial ready to chop her head off, but it made her feel quite special that Diana considered meeting her mother so important to give herself unnecessary anxiety. It was a natural response from her, still, it meant she particularly cared.

"Relax, okay?" Jack said soothingly, walking closer to her to squeeze her narrow shoulders in her reassuring hold "She doesn't bite." She winced. "Much." She corrected.

Diana sighed, her lips parted into a strange expression between desperate and astonished.  
"Oh, now I'm calm."

🏛️

Diana didn't waste any time texting her boss she would be back in seven days; she made sure to apologize more than once for the total lack of proper notice and lied, maybe for the first time, that an emergency had come up so he wouldn't protest or try to make her feel guilty. But of course, her boss wasn't a sympathetic person, so she thought better turning her phone completely off, after ensuring that the message had been sent.

Jack thought it rather strange, so once she'd finished with the papers and rented a car for the five hours trip, she asked, out of mere curiosity, what would happen if someone had tried to call. Diana simply had shrugged stating that nobody would've done such a thing.

The remark left Jack speechless because it was quite clear that she wasn't talking just about work or about her collogues, but in general – was she really that lonely? Diana was far from being a bad person, so why was she on her own? Maybe she didn't like to talk about her family, maybe they lived far away and, for some reason, they couldn't communicate at all; either way, it must've provoked some sort of bad impact on her, so Jack decided it was better not to investigate further.

In the end, Jack backpack was laying atop of a trolley and another extra luggage that Diana has insisted to take with her, along with her laptop and few books she couldn't stay without; the fact that they were going into a house equipped with everything got totally ignored.

Jack had indulged her without complaining, because it was clear that she wasn't used to be outside her comfort zone, literally. Maybe she'd never been in the North either, nor to a birthday party for a parent that was not hers. There was so much Jack wanted to ask.

Jack couldn't possibly grasp everything that was going through her mind in that specific moment, she didn't have enough information to comprehend her mood, but of course, it was easy to tell that she was feeling quite nervous. A five hours car ride could be excruciating, and yet it was a blessing for them, so she could have enough time to calm down and put her mind to the idea of meeting her mother, while Jack could think of all the ways to make the experience as good and possible for her.

She turned on the radio and lowered the volume, then spurred Diana to guess the name of the property, the exact location where it was sited, what did they do there, to which she always shook her head dismissively, laughing at the most absurd hypothesis the woman gave her once she ran out of options.

A couple of hours later, London was behind them and the car was speeding down the highway, the lane of cars surrounding them creating a soothing and familiar sound of wheels rolling on the glowing asphalt. They kept switching between random chats, kept alive by Jack who seemed always to find something interesting to comment upon, and entire minutes of quietness where they would just listen to the radio and sing along when some really catchy song would air. Diana would chuckle as she watched at her perform her jams, trying not to sound too rude when Jack tried to make her join without any result.

It was almost noon when they were quietly listening to a Janis Joplin album called _Pearl_, taking turns to tell the other fun facts or memories linked with a particular song; Diana was laying back on her seat, her elbow resting next to the window as he hand supported her head. Jack thought she was about to drift into sleep when, all of a sudden, her droopy eyes shot open and her whole body jolted forward.

"Stop the car!" She cried out, widening her eyes and keeping her glance on the road, looking like she'd just seen a ghost.

"What? Why?"

"Will you _please_ stop the car?"

Jack tried her best not to swear, that unexpected noise almost made her turn the wheel and go astray. The woman tried also to stay calm and immediately sought a nice place to stop. After all, she couldn't be angry at Diana, maybe she was getting car sick or needed some rest.

"What's the matter?" She asked worriedly, trying to detect any sign of discomfort.  
Diana didn't look pale or sweaty, nor was she swallowing frequently or seemed to be sick at all. Instead, she looked suddenly frightened of something, like some strange realization just hit her and now she couldn't do anything about it.

"I need to buy a present for your mother."

Jack stared at her in shock: she wasn't joking, Diana was dead serious about that intention.

"Now?" She blurted out, blinking in confusion. "We're in the middle of nowhere, besides you can share mine. It wasn't planned for you to come as well!"

"I can't go to your mother's house, for her birthday, without bringing anything!" She pointed out, matter-of-factly. Then, she slowly turned her head to Jack and narrowed her eyes. "You did tell her I was coming, right?"

Jack frowned slightly, trying not to give away her guilty expression, failing miserably.  
"It'll be fine." She mumbled, striving to give her a reassuring smile. "That house has more guest rooms than windows."

Diana crossed her arms and sighed loudly. She didn't like that, she didn't like that at all. It was her punishment for going to a trip without planning, for diving into that adventure without asking for details first; she'd just put herself in a bit of a situation, a disaster waiting to happen, and she was the only one to blame. The least she could do was trying to make things a little bit easier.

"Get off the first exit for the first town, I need to go shopping." Diana stated, glaring a little when the other tried to protest. "And you'll call your mother and warn her you're not alone."

Jack glared back, but just as a mere reflex. Deep down, she knew it would make her feel a bit less worried, shopping and put her head on something else for a while could do her good too, besides, her stomach was starting to grumble.

"Fine." She spat, turning the engine on and inspect the road signs for a decent town to stop and rest for a while. Even if her voice could've sounded rude and annoyed, her anger was completely disappeared, or to better say, it never even arrived and for some reason, she knew that Diana was feeling the same. It was nice to peacefully argue about something, most of all when the outcome could bring an even nicer occasion to spend time with her.

Perhaps Jack could take her around for a little stroll after the shopping, and to a nice little restaurant to chat and enjoy some time alone, since it was pretty early and her mother wouldn't expect her before the afternoon. Maybe she could tell Diana about the house rules – after all, if she liked to be prepared in order not to be caught off-guard by some of her mother pesky remarks, it was better to warn her. It wasn't something that difficult, not for a meek and refined person like her, but sometimes her mother could be a champion in spotting everyone's smallest flaw and point it out like the biggest fail in human history. Throughout the years, Jack had learned to ignore her unfortunate remarks, but for someone outside the family could be a little challenging in the beginning – but she was sure that Diana would handle everything at her best, also, she would be there by her side all the time.

"So what's you mother like?"

Jack turned her gaze from a mannequin she was staring at. That place was so fancy and expensive that she felt guilty just being there – there, she didn't even know where: as soon as they arrived into that town, she didn't even have the time to check on the name that Diana was already off seeking for a nice boutique, and like the best truffle-dog, she'd found one in a blink. It scared her in a way, but on the other she was impressed. No surprise, on second thought, since Diana had a sixth sense when it came down to stylish things.

The woman gave back a perplexed look, trying so hard to find a reasonable explanation for why fashion got so queer and extravagant, not to mention the prices. It was all such a waste.

"I don't know." Jack shrugged, walking slowly to her. She followed her gaze, trying to get what got Diana so mesmerized on a simple scarf; was it the color or the material? She was clueless. But on the other hand, even if Diana didn't know her mother yet, she seemed on the good path to know what type of things she might like. "Classy? Very traditional, I guess, but I can't define it." She shrugged.

Diana pursued her lips as she inspected with the cynical expression a pair of earrings that laid behind a polished glass.  
"Blanche Deveraux style or more Alexis Colby?"

Jack followed her, trying to mirror her motions.  
"Is there a difference?" She asked with a diverted expression, while her hand went to pet several fake furs standing in tow next to them. Why would they even sell furs in summer?

The other stopped her research to watch at Jack as she stubbornly tried to dive into that foreign world – and to think of all the etiquette lessons when she was little, what a disappointment she was, for her family.

Diana appreciated the effort: judging by her casual style, she didn't like those types of things, nor she approved them on some sort of level. Maybe it was because she wasn't too fond of her mother and yet she'd never complained when it was her to wear them – perhaps, yes, it was something she liked to see on other people but had trouble understand fashion when it came to choosing first hand. Diana didn't mind, of course, because it was her simplicity and authenticity that made her feel comfortable.

And then, she was positively impressed because she'd got both of the references; until then she rarely talked about her favorite shows, fearing she might be judged too boring or too retro but maybe her taste wasn't even that weird, after all. It was reassuring.

"Sarcasm and spitefulness, I'd say." Diana smirked.

"Definitely Alexis Colby, then."

"Is it too late to go back to London?"

"It'll be fine!" Jack retorted with a little chuckle. "I'm only exaggerating." She justified, although she wondered, for a moment, if she was really.

Diana studied her features for a moment before pursuing her research.  
"What's your gift?"

"Plane tickets for the Kentucky Derby." She said with a little shrug.

Diana stopped again, narrowing her eyes in her direction. Jack could almost see the cogs inside her head moving in order to find the perfect solution to her problem.

"Is she a horse enthusiast?" She asked with half of a smirk.

"You can say so." Jack tried to conceal a diverted expression when she confirmed her thoughts. Even without knowing what was the family occupation, nor exactly where they lived, Diana had already guessed right about one of the most important thing about her mother's life, the one of highest value and which kept the closest to her heart, especially now that she lived in that house all alone for the majority of the year.

"What do you think about this?" Diana proposed happily, showing the other one of the finest foulard she'd ever seen, a silky one of dark shades with equestrian patterns on the corners and a horse in the middle.

"It's Versace." Jack blinked several times, astonished. She knew money wasn't a problem for her, but wasting a similar amount for a person she'd never met was a next level of wanting to make a good impression; she wanted to say that her mother wasn't for sale, but on the other hand, she also knew that it was untrue: her mother was most certainly for sale when it came down to fashion items, so Diana had made unconsciously the perfect choice. If she was lucky, that gift would spare her from a comment or two.

Perhaps they could even get along for real; it was something she'd never believed it could happen and yet Diana had never seem to cease to surprise her, right from day one. It would've been a dream for her mother to actually like one of her _friends_, it would've been a first. But of course, Diana had been the first in many, many things and Jack couldn't be more proud and content.

Once the Versace foulard was securely wrapped inside a fancy box, which was placed on top of their luggage in the trunk, it was time to look for a place to eat. Each time Jack's stomach grumbled, Diana couldn't suppress a giggle, which made Jack feel equally embarrassed and diverted to inspire such a light and genuine laugh in her.

Despite being furnished with nice boutiques and shop that resold top-line brands, that town seemed lacking in the restaurant field – at least in that area – and Jack, who wanted to take her out in a nice place, had to settle for a modest bistro next to the highway so they would be ready to hit the road right after lunch.

Unfortunately, it was as close to a fast food it could be and after placing the order, Jack started to feel guilty: it was their first meal out, not a proper date but similar to it, and Diana would more likely not touch a thing. The woman thought of ordering something simple and typically English couldn't be a bad idea, however as soon as the waiter came back with their orders, she had to rethink her decision.

"Look, I know it's not Gordon Ramsay, but you should try some. It's not that bad." Tried Jack, chewing on her fried fish, hardly concealing the fact that the consistency was really akin to cardboard.

Diana inspected her dish suspiciously, lifting the fish and making soggy potatoes sticks fall back onto the plate.  
"You're a terrible liar." She commented. "If it tastes good it's only because you're hungry."

"You're probably right." Admitted Jack with a wince, removing a fishbone from her mouth.

They both chuckled and Diana quietly watched her eat while sipping her lemon water, her curious glance wandering around the cramped place full of lorry drivers. Suddenly the fact that they were the only women in there hit her and made her feel quite uncomfortable, while Jack, assuming she'd noticed that detail as well, was completely unworried by the situation.

That trip was a disaster and yet Diana couldn't help feeling quite happy. It was far from her idea of a vacation for there were no comfort or specific plans, nor they were about to reach some luxurious destination with the only goal of relaxing and washing off all the city troubles – it was she thought how her first vacation in years would be like, but she'd been wrong.

And yet, despite everything she'd dreamed of was missing, she couldn't feel more excited. Being there with Jack made her forget everything else, she was eager just to be with her, her mind already wandering in the future, imagining how her family house would look like, how her mother would welcome her, what would they do there for almost a week. Perhaps she would find the courage to do the talk and finally clear up their situation.

She paid and forced herself to smile at the enormous man behind the counter, and waited for Jack to return from the bathroom. The place, in general, wasn't much clean, so she wouldn't even dare to envisage the state of the restroom and as soon as the other came out of it, Diana couldn't be more happy with her decision.

"How was it?" Diana asked with a diverted grin.

"Not that bad." She winced, walking slowly toward her.

"Again, you're a terrible liar." Mocked the other, digging her hand inside her purse and offering a wet tissue without adding anything else.

"Okay, you'd have a panic attack by just peeking at the walls." Jack confessed with a wince and a shake of her head, taking the tissue and wiping her hands several times before throwing it away. "But we still have quite long to go, are you sure?"

"Positive." She assured.

"Yeah, after all we'll drive through the woods soon, it won't be hard to find a quiet spot, in case of emergency." She said like the most natural thing, while boarding on the car.

Diana shot her a horrified look, stopping dead right before entering the passenger's seat.  
"I beg your pardon?" She inquired, widening her eyes.

"I'm kidding, come on!" Jack spurred, a diverted smile now painted on her lips with no intention of fading out.

Jack quickly found out, throughout the few weeks she'd been together, that she loved teasing Diana; it was so easy to make her blush or make her blue eyes grow wide in shock and she loved also laughing with her at those reactions, while she realized that Jack was just playing around with her. Diana was so innocent sometimes, never thinking bad but just fearing other's judgment, that she believed everything she said without even questioning it. For some reason, Jack had made up in her mind this ethereal image of her, always perfectly neat and smart with her clothes, her make-up on point, always having a kind word or a smile, that picturing her in a scenario that didn't include some elegant place or situation wasn't even contemplated: that fast food was, so far, the latest place she'd think she'd found her, so the idea of having a perfectly refined lady like her squatted down behind a bush was positively hilarious, in her mind at least.

She liked that she struggled to play tough even in that situation and Jack firmly believed that she would never admit her needs anyway. It would've been too embarrassing for her, and yet the fact that Diana, one hour from getting to their destination, started to fidget uncomfortably in her seat made her chuckle, hardly inhibiting to tell her she'd told her so and gloat about it. Then, when after a while she drifted off into sleep, Jack peeked at her peaceful features with the corner of her eye and continued driving, feeling finally at home and alive again at the mere sight of those green hills appearing beyond the labyrinth of cement.

She loved that place for it was her home. Yes, London's life was much better than the one she could ever get in the country and yet going back, even once a year, made her feel good – it was a nice feeling. And now that Diana was by her side, somehow she felt even better. Jack was about to show Diana her family house, where she lived as a child, she would tell her stories and show each of her favorite spots and she would show her the stars, at night as they would listen to the stillness of the nature, only spoiled by the soft chirps of crickets and the soothing sounds of owls. It would be a great difference from the traffic of the city.  
She only hoped Diana would love everything as much as she did.

Jack smiled fondly at her, even if she couldn't see her because she was still asleep, but when finally the old wooden sign carrying the property name popped out at the side of the road, she couldn't help a gasp escaping her lips. The car abandoned the street to take another, unpaved one, the path made of two parallel lines drawn by the passage of cars over the years. She waited a few minutes for the trees guarding the two sides of the road to decrease in number until the wood was replaced by wide, green fields to touch gently Diana's knees.

"Babe, wake up. We're here." She whispered, patiently waiting for her eyes to flutter open. She smiled helplessly at Diana's excited expression as she let her eyes wander around the property in awe. "Welcome to Kylronan."


	6. Chapter 6 - Meet the Barlings

For updates and extras, follow the dedicated blog on Tumblr: _Artemisia x Gorgo [meltemi-artemisiagorgo-300modern]_

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Chapter Six – Meet the Barlings

The place was idyllic, drowned in a green ocean of trees and grass getting bigger and wider by the second. As the car proceeded along the path, trudging on the unpaved road as its wheels creaked and bounced, Diana could spot more and more of that place, which seemed immense – she had no other words to describe it.

She could see wide enclosures of white fences going up and down the hills and small moving dots that could only be animals grazing undisturbed, peacefully bathed into the warm sun. At first, Diana thought of sheep, then cows and then, with a leap of her heart, she saw their shiny manes and realized they were horses, hundreds of them, in small groups scattered about around everywhere. When Jack said that her mother liked horses she wasn't kidding.

Diana was about to point the animals with her finger, more thrilled than a child into a toy store, when her eyes finally spotted, behind a luscious oak tree that was blocking her sight until then, the big, white house that was Jack's family's home.

The building was mighty, with columns on the front that supported a balcony on the first floor, a short staircase that lead to the door and decorations of black wrought iron all over, from the door-frame to the vases that kept two rows of flowering plants guarding the entrance. Heavy furniture was even visible from the large windows and even if the opulence was the same – if not more – of her boss, that house felt warmer than his.

Diana slowly turned her head to the other woman, who kept driving unworried, not even trying to conceal that utterly satisfied smirk on her lips.

"You're rich!" Was all Diana could managed to blurt out, a disbelieving hint in her voice. How come she never talked about that property she had? Of course money didn't matter nor were sources of issues, but from the small bakery she owned in London and the even smaller loft she lived in, not to mention her lifestyle in general, she would've never guessed that her family were that wealthy: when Jack mentioned the property in the North, she'd imagined a modest house in the countryside, maybe with a backyard and a pool, certainly not that kind of estate. It was a surprise.

Jack shrugged a little, sporting a totally blameless expression.  
"I'm _filthy_ rich." She confirmed with a chuckle. "The Barlings are racehorses breeders over four generations."

Diana stared back, speechless, unsure if being more upset about having that information or the fact that she'd just learned Jack's last name.

"How come you never told me?" She asked, her eyes still wandering around, following the soft outline of the green hills, surrounded by high trees of strong branches studded with leaves so shiny and rich to resemble emeralds. For a moment, she felt the cold shiver of excitement, as if she wasn't in England anymore, but about to enter a different country, not even an earthly one; everything was so peaceful and bright that it all felt like a dream.

"You never asked." Retorted Jack with the same smirk.

"How was I supposed to know all this? You told me about a family house in the North and I was content with that, you should've mentioned that you basically have an empire of your own!" Diana replied, half chuckling. She was already in love with that place, honestly, it made her happy.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Finally admitted Jack, her smirk melting into a fond smile as she laid her eyes on the fields, on the horses and, lastly, on the house.

Diana followed her glance, smiling instinctively when she noticed that the front door had slowly opened; a woman came out of it, sporting a wide smile. She started to wave almost immediately and Diana took her time to study her features: the woman was in her late fifties, she was wearing a casual yet stylish attire, her dark blond hair, curled at the tips, merely reached her shoulders and looked nothing like the chocolate brown of her daughter's. She looked nice, but of course, she didn't know her yet.  
Jack and her mother barely looked related, but they looked close – Diana struggled to keep her smile on when they called each other from afar, waving excitedly back and forth as the car got closer and closer. It brought back memories.

But then, the melancholic and sad feeling that caught her mind for a long moment, completely disappeared when she noticed that Jack's mother had stopped her passionate waving, and was standing there without moving, her hand in mid-air and her eyes, small and of a pale shade of brown, were completely fixed on her.

"Why is your mother glaring at me?" Whispered Diana, her heart skipping a beat. "You told her you weren't alone, right?" She asked anxiously tilting her head toward the other woman.

"Sorry." Chirped Jack with a guilty wince. "I tried, but she didn't pick up, I guess she was out in the barn and then there was no signal on the highway."

"She doesn't look too happy." Diana pointed out, holding in her breath without realizing it.

"She's just trying to remember if she's seen you before." The other retorted, shrugging dismissively. "You're alright."

Diana forced herself to calm down: after all, who better than her own daughter could know her? If she said she was alright, then she must have been. Perhaps that woman was indeed trying to figure out whether she was an old or new acquaintance and her notorious anxiety was making her seen things that just weren't there.

She waited for the car to stop to remove the belt and, slowly, she opened the door, letting the mother and daughter having their moment.

"Jacklin!" The woman cried happily, hugging her almost immediately.

Diana stared, almost taken aback: she'd heard that name only once and she even hardly linked it to Jack at all; the fact that her mother called her that, without any nicknames, made it all sound weird like they were addressing or thinking of two different people. She guessed she'd have to get used to it, at least for the time of their stay.

"Hello, mother!" She said back. For the first time, maybe, Diana saw her cheeks painted in a brighter shade of pink – she never thought that parents affections would have that effect on her, just like a kid smooched in front of a group of other teens.

Diana watched fondly the scene and only widened her smile when Jack's mother averted her eyes to watch her, finally acknowledging her presence with a less judging glance.

"Who's your friend?" She asked with a polite smile, which put Diana's heart at ease.

"That's Diana." Jack hurriedly said, sliding to the back of the car already minding the luggage, eager to pull everything out and put the new gift away safely, far from her mother's sight.

"Hello, Mrs. Barling." Replied Diana, shaking her hand. She waited for the woman to say that she could simply call her by her real name, Martha, but the proposal never arrived – maybe it was too soon, she could just let go rather than thinking that, perhaps, Jack's mother already despised her or noticed something about her that she didn't like.

For how much Diana tried not to think of the worst, however, the woman was looking at her with a strange expression which she found difficult to read.

"I didn't quite catch the name, miss..?" She said, trailing off with a mellow voice.

"It's Diana." She said, echoing Jack. It was an unusual name, yes, but she never thought it could be difficult to remember or pronounce; Diana repeated it gladly, yet somehow, she felt that the woman wasn't satisfied with her answer. Jack had said that her mother was a complicated woman, hiding behind a sweetened layer of politeness sometimes, which she used as a diversion as she studied and judged people. Diana swallowed, thinking that she had to be at her best and most of all, hoping that her sweaty hand wouldn't give her away. "Diana Bouchard."

Martha threw her and impressed look, letting her glance move on her entire figure as her gracious hand went to perk up a few blond locks on the side of her head.

"You're from the continent, I see."

"Actually, I'm French-Canadian." She hurriedly corrected, feeling her throat going suddenly dry. She called silently for Jack's help: her mother was making her feel under pressure and her discomfort was playing against her, making her unreasonably chatty. She'd just told Martha something that not even Jack knew about her, both her last name and where she was born and grew, and it was getting ugly – one more question from that woman and Diana was sure she would overshare something again.

So she was glad when finally Jack emerged from the back of the car, her backpack on and other two luggage in each hand, ready to carry everything inside. Diana offered her to help, but she just shook her head no.

"Your room is ready, I suppose you want to freshen up?" Said Martha excitedly, clearly happy to have her daughter around. "Dinner is at seven." She warned, vaguely gesturing the house as she welcomed them in.

"I know mother, we won't be late." Jack promised with a diverted smirk. "I just want to show her around. We'll be back in time to get change for dinner."

"Jacklin," Martha suddenly called her with a preoccupied voice, following her close as her daughter approached the starts to enter the house. "you should've told me you'd bring a friend, I would have prepared the guest room!" She complained.

"Don't worry, mother. We'll share my room." Jack cut her off immediately.

Martha stared at her daughter for a solid minute as she entered the house, quickly climbing the stairs two by two. Diana hastily followed her in tow, fearing she might get lost inside that foreign house that already looked so big and elegant, just like its owner. She tried to not to overthink about it, as always, and yet, that strange look Martha gave them, had made her stomach turn. How much did she know? Was Diana supposed to actually act like a _friend_?

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After having taken off the smell of the road and her trip clothes, Diana felt positively reborn. She was sitting with her legs crossed in the middle of the queen-sized bed wrapped in her silky robe after a quick shower, her hair still up, curiously looking around the room, which looked nothing like Jack.

Diana could easily picture the rebellious teen forced to live inside that elegant room, hiding squared shirts and posters everywhere, while her family wanted to be an impeccable refine lady. It was both alarming and sweet that everything, from the kind of furniture to the colors of it, was preserving some sort of aura, like nothing had been touched since Jack had decided to move out and live in London on her own – and that, was something she was eager to find out, since that place was heaven and Jack could've easily found the best life could offer, there.

She smiled fondly when she noticed the big drawer on the side, with a photo of a young Jack riding a horse, her smile wide and cheeky despite missing most of her frontal teeth; the frame was clearly decorated by a child, with glitters and uneven paint. Next to it, a vase of fresh flowers, so long and bright that almost covered the mirror behind in its entirety.  
Those are the only things that differed from the rest of the furniture: the head of the bed, the drawer on which they stood, the small library full of books and little objects up until the bedside tables were made out of the same wood, sporting the same handles and decorations, as for the duvet, it matched the rug and the curtains. It was like watching again one of the samples her interior designer had shown her when she bought her apartment, only more classic and suited for a rural and country environment.

She liked it, but on the other hand, it was like it didn't fully belong to Jack, rather to another person – even a teen, perhaps – forced to be somebody else. Maybe that was the reason why she moved to London to live on her own.

"So what do you think?" Diana flinched, stopping her wandering of thoughts to concentrate on Jack's voice coming from the bathroom.

"I really like it here." She replied with a peaceful sigh. The woman couldn't quite believe that she couldn't hear anything: not the noise of the traffic, not the continuous chatting of tourists and people, just the wind blowing through the trees, the distant neighs of horses and literally nothing else; she couldn't remember a moment in her life where she'd found herself in a similar place.

"I was talking about my mother." Chuckled the other, coming out of the bathroom with her hair wet, which she was harshly rubbing with a towel.

Diana winced a little, trying not to appear rude nor biased. On the outside she'd looked like a perfect lady, but Jack had warned her that she sometimes used her kind and gracious manners to avert the victim's attention in order to study and judge.

"She was nice." She said vaguely. "But she won't call me by my name and it makes me feel weird, because even my boss calls me Diana."

"That's lack of respect, babe." Jack pointed out.

"Let's not change subject, now." The other sighed frustrated. "She didn't say to call her Martha. Also, she threw me some weird glances."

Jack nodded and chuckled, she discarded the towel and slid on a sleeveless shirt that looked worn out by time.  
"She may be a little cold at first, but don't worry, okay?" She reassured, walking steadily toward the big drawer and digging through the clothes she found there, all perfectly and neatly folded – by some sort of order, Diana was sure about that – apparently without finding what she was looking for. "My mother is just from a different era and another upbringing, you know? The kind that raised kids as they were little lords."

"I suppose you're right." Diana agreed. It was far too easy to imagine little Martha raised as the perfect vintage lady who lives only for her debut in society and, later on, for a proper marriage with a wealthy man. It was sad in a way, but some people could be satisfied with that life – who was she to judge? After all, Martha seemed to be happy in her house, surrounded by nature, taking care of hundreds of horses; who wouldn't?

"She'll warm up to you, in time." Reassured Jack, her voice distant.

"Are you looking for something specific?" The other frowned, stretching her neck as far as she could to be able to peek inside the drawer.

"Something for you to wear."

"You complained I brought too much and now you want me to wear your things!" Diana retorted, outraged. "I have plenty of clothes!" She protested, climbing down the bed.

"I doubt you have the right ones!" Jack replied, happily clicking her tongue when she finally found what she was looking for. "I appreciate your attempt to bring long trousers and comfy clothes, but those tailored things won't last a minute out there. Frankly, I don't want one of your Chanel boots or Prada shirts on my conscience." She giggled with a playful voice.

"What's that?" Diana narrowed her eyes, studying the two pieces of clothes that the woman was presenting her: a plain blue t-shirt and pair of light brown trousers with patches on the inside of the leg. She silently parted her lips when she realized that those weren't just any trousers, but riding ones. Of course, what would she expect from a horse breeder's daughter?

"Come meet my babies." Said Jack enthusiastically, without even giving her time to process the whole thing.

She took a look at the mirror as Diana dressed with the clothes she'd provided her, helplessly wondering how on earth was it possible to look so contrasting even with a similar outfit. Jack had always blamed their differences on the high heels or her elegant dresses or her perfect make-up, for the matter, but now she had no more excuses.

It was something about Diana that made her look gracious even with those country clothes, while she looked like a common farm girl about to visit the barn. Or maybe it was just her, watching that woman through different eyes; not that she minded, of course, having a person like Diana by her side, always looking at her top without even trying – even when she tilted her head she looked good, inspecting with a childish frown her own reflection, clearly not satisfied with something about her hair.

"Don't bother, you'll be wearing a helmet anyway." Chuckled Jack, already foreseeing the killer look Diana promptly threw her.

When they were both finally ready, they quickly warned Martha about their plans and after a few recommendations, Jack led her quietly to the barn. The path was quick and quiet, the nature unfolding right before their eyes, the smells coming from the different types of trees and flowers titillating their nostrils at each step they took.

Diana took everything in, basking into that peaceful sensation, the silence only rarely abused by the trotting of the horses as they walked closer the enclosures and some dog barking as they played and chased each other undisturbed.  
She watched in awe as Jack whistled to call the horses to her from the paddocks, and they promptly came to have their noses scratched and snatch few threats from her palm.

Jack looked like she was dealing with well-behaved dogs, only bigger ones.

They were about to get to the barn when Diana noticed that someone was dealing with a huge bale of hay, making it roll around and poking at it with a pitchfork. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see the face hid under the baseball hat with the Barling logo printed on it – she didn't know if she had to blame it on the tiredness or the heat, but for a moment she thought she'd just seen someone she knew from somewhere, even if it was impossible.

Diana was about to point it out to her when she noticed that Jack was looking in the exact same direction. Before she could even say anything, she saw the woman bolting toward the man and, almost catching him off guard, she leaped into his arms.

Diana stared, not exactly sure what to do, as the guy laughed and tried to secure Jack within his hold, careful not to drop her on the ground. Now that she could take a better look, he had dark hair and hazel eyes, even if he still kept something that reminded her of someone she couldn't quite identify; maybe he was an old friend of Jack and she'd shown her a photo of him before, she just wasn't sure.

What she did know, was that she was starting to feel uncomfortable. Those two were still hugging, talking densely one to the other, completely unaware of everything that surrounded them, almost as if she wasn't even there. Diana sighed, a strange feeling blooming somewhere deep inside her chest and quickly spreading everywhere: sure he was good looking, he was fit and muscular and he had to love horses as much as she did, besides, they clearly knew each other from a very long time – she couldn't compete with that.

It was a real surprise. Diana had never had the chance to fully put her head around the idea of Jack being hugged by another person, but now that it was happening right before her eyes, there was a weird fluttering sensation at the pit of her stomach that she could only identify with a slight hint of jealousy.

She tried not to frown, but couldn't help clearing her throat, making her presence known. Finally, Jack turned to her, untangling her legs from the guy's waist and rolling down her shirt as soon as she put her feet on the ground again. The woman flung her arm over the guy's broad shoulders, sporting a bright and proud smile.

"This is my baby brother." She said enthusiastically.

Diana stared blankly for a moment, feeling stupid at the thoughts that had crowded her mind for no reason. After all, Jack couldn't just behave like that with anyone: that had to be a very close relative.

"You didn't tell me you have a brother." She stammered, walking closer to them with a shy smile painted on her lips. Now that she could see them one next to the other, it was easy to tell that they were siblings and finally, she realized that Flynn's face resembled his sister's – mystery solved.

Jack gave her brother one last squeeze before leaving his side and return to Diana, sliding her arm around her waist and pecking a very quick kiss on her jaw.

"Yes, he lives here with mother." She explained hurriedly, only to have her mouth crooking into a diverted wince soon after. "Why? Did you get jealous, babe?"

Diana closed her eyes for a moment, smiling helplessly as she leaned into her hold. She was about to admit that, yes, maybe she'd let her thoughts ramble for a moment but it only made her feel stupid and evil-minded, which was something she despised, but Flynn's loud scoff forced them both to focus their attention to him.

"_Babe_?" He whined, clearly faking some sort of annoyance. "Don't tell me she's gay too!"

"Sorry, Flynn." Jack promptly replied with a chuckle.

"I was already planning to be _very_ nice at dinner." He complained, then he turned to Diana, addressing directly to her as if his sister wasn't even there. "She's been stealing all the girls I like since high-school."

"Oh, will you give me a break? It was just _one_ time and it was _ages_ ago." Complained Jack with a lamenting voice.

"It still haunts me today, as you can see." He pointed out, matter-of-factly, stretching out his hand and waiting for Diana to shake it. "I'm Flynn, by the way."

"Diana." She replied with a polite smile.

"I think you two are about the same age." Added Jack vaguely.

"You think?" Echoed Flynn with a voice that was the perfect mix of astonishment and disbelieving, as he'd almost seen it coming. He crossed his arm and smirked "That's so typical of you. I bet 5 pounds that you don't even know her last name." He challenged with a triumphant and amused expression.

There was an awkward silence that followed those words. Diana hoped that Jack had overheard the small talk with her mother, just an hour before; when, feeling panicky and under judgment, she overshared information about herself that not even Jack knew, but, evidently, she was wrong.

Neither of them had felt the need to know their last names before as if it was almost redundant compared to all the things they talked about, and yet she felt that it wasn't fair, for Jack, to lose such a childish game over that futile lack.

"But of course she knows my last name is Bouchard." She said calmly, tilting her head to share a complicity glance with the woman.

"Of course." Echoed Jack, hundreds of thoughts suddenly swirling inside her head. Was she French? How come she never had stumbled upon such information? She certainly didn't look French. Then again, did French people had a particular face? Maybe her father's origins were French and she'd lived all her life in London. There was so much to ask.

"Nice save." Praised Flynn with a giggle, cutting off completely the stream of her thoughts. "She's got your back, I like her a lot."

Diana instinctively leaned even more into Jack's embrace, feeling her cheeks growing redder by the second. Was it something about the Barlings or was it just easy to embarrass her? She would naturally go with the latter if she wasn't in fact there, between those two.

"Now, when you're done, will you please tell me if all the horses are out in the pastures?" Jack asked with a mockingly kind voice. "I'd like to take our guest for a ride before dinner."

"No, just the racing ones." Replied Flynn leaning lazily against the bale. "Take the outer track, will you? Last night it stormed and I haven't got time to check on it yet, I fear that the old birch might've fallen."

"Sure." Nodded Jack.

"Don't take too long, I know all the secret spots where you take your girls." Advised Flynn with a smile, to which his sister responded with a diverted wince.

Jack lead her into the barn, where two rows of stalls, some empty other not, stood at each opposite walls. It didn't actually look like a common country barn, but rather one of the top stables she'd ever seen: everything was made out of polished wood and green iron, with lanterns to decorate the sliding doors, from which dozens of curious horses was peeking out, grazing at some yellow hay or staring intrigued at the two intruders. Those horses looked beautiful and majestic and of course, she couldn't doubt that they weren't treated finely – just the pavement and the halters that hanged just outside each stall, all padded, looked expensive.

"Did you take a lot of girls here?" Asked Diana with a smirk, her eyes wandering around, absent-mindedly deciding which horse was her favorite.

"A few, when I was younger." Jack admitted with a little shrug. "But it's been years since the last time. Besides, never on my mother's birthday nor I took one out to ride."

"Technically, I invited myself." Diana pointed out, suddenly feeling guilty and out of place. What if she really invited her out of pity? Or just because she had no other choice?

"I was about to come to the museum!" Jack retorted. "I admit I'm not sure if I'd ask you to come but because I was scared you'd decline. I'm glad you proposed it." She said sincerely.

Diana stared, helplessly smiling at her. She could've given her the benefit of the doubt, but now that Jack was admitting she'd feared her rejection made her feel inevitable drawn to that woman even more. She'd thought that she was the one with many concerns and overthinking everything, while in reality, that bold woman she'd met was fearing the same things. It must've meant something for sure.

"I'm glad too." Whispered Diana, barely above breath. "So, why didn't you let other girls ride your horses?"

Jack frowned, slowly turning to her. It was so strange that she'd used the word _let_, because it was exactly the case: before Diana, she'd never think any girl worth of riding her horses – Jack had never even let other near the barn, for the matter; she hadn't fully realized it until Diana pointed that out.

"No other girls were you." She replied promptly. "As for the secret spots Flynn mentioned, he was just teasing." She then added, walking backward so she wouldn't have to detach her eyes from hers. "Except for him to play silly games or talk, I've never brought anyone there. Ever."

Diana followed slowly, basking in the thought of being the first to be brought to ride a horse and, maybe, even the first person – aside from her own brother – to see one of her secret spots. She used to have those too, somewhere she would go when she needed to be alone, when she was little, to think and get over any sort of trouble that could afflict a twelve-year-old. Diana felt guilty, sometimes, thinking of all the hours she spent in those places wishing to be left alone, peacefully unaware that a few years later she would have had plenty of time on her own without even seeking for it; she dearly regretted those carefree moments now.

She shook off those blue memories from her head as soon as she noticed Jack stopping in front of a stall. Inside, a muddy brown horse was staring back at them with curious eyes; as soon as Jack reached her hand between the bars to let her scent travel to the animal, it immediately turned its ears forward, its eyes alert as it came promptly near her, leaning its nose into her palm to greet her.

Diana stared in amazement, that heart-warming image making her helplessly smile.

"Meet your wonderful steed, babe." The other said quietly soon after, rubbing the horse's fur and making it happily snort. "This is Thalia, the sweetest mare you'll ever meet."

Diana watched them interact a little more before gathering some courage and offer the horse her hand to let it sniff it and know her smell. The horse indeed looked sweet and kind and its warm breath, crashing rhythmically against her palm, quietened almost instantly her spirit.

"She's beautiful." She said through an elated smile.

"Of course she is, I raised her myself." Jack said proudly, opening the stall and sliding in.

Diana remained outside, carefully and fondly watching Jack as she took the saddle and the bridle from a small closet hidden in one of the four walls of the enclosure. She took her time to brush the mare, getting rid of patches of hay and dirt that had stained the luscious fur, she untangled the mane, and then cleaned the hooves. Only when she was satisfied with her work, she proceeded with saddling up the horse, with a black saddle and white pad beneath, only lastly putting on the bite-less bridle and leading the horse outside its stall.

"Take your time to know each other while I get my horse ready." Jack instructed, passing the reins to her along with a chopped carrot.

Diana watched closely how the horse would gently take the orange pieces from her palm, careful not to hurt her as she ate directly from her hand. The woman smiled fondly, surprised of herself for not feeling weird about having her skin wet with the animal's drool; she just winced a little and wiped her hand on her trousers which were, unbelievably, already stained with dirt even if she literally did nothing yet.

She lightly patted the mare's neck and turned her head, trying to spot Jack in one of the nearby stalls. When she finally noticed some movements in one enclosure, a few feet away, she frowned and tentatively walked closer, Thalia diligently following her without her even have to tug on the reins.

She saw Jack moving quickly and the horse spinning behind her. The animal seemed huge compared to Thalia, dark black fur and a curly, long mane.

"Who's this?" Diana asked amazed, her eyes laying upon a majestic horse that almost reached the top of the bars with its head.

"Xerxes." The other woman simply replied, popping out from one side of the creature, looking disheveled and with a somewhat short of breath. "He's not a racehorse, he's a Frisian. Flynn and my mother gave it to me for my 30th birthday."

"He's gorgeous." Whispered Diana, a smile creeping out from her lips. Of course he wasn't an expert, but it certainly looked impressive and she doubted any other horse could compete with him in term of bold and elegant features, hence, the King of Persia's name fit him perfectly; now that she thought about it, even her own Thalia had a peculiar name, Greek nonetheless. "Are you making up their names?" She chuckled, shaking a little her head. "You know your horse is named after a Persian King and mine after one of the three Graces?"

"It's a family tradition to give the horses classic names." Jack confirmed with a smirk. "I knew you'd like it here." She stated triumphantly, putting away all the tools and quickly moving on to tack him up with very similar harnesses at Tahlia: black saddle, a white pad underneath and bite-less bridle with a few ornaments on the front lather, this time, instead of a soft cushioning. If it wasn't for the white pad and silver installment on the bridle, she wouldn't even notice the difference between the dark fur and the leather.

Diana could only imagine how stunning and graceful Jack would look like riding and even cantering that mighty animal out in the undisturbed nature; for a moment, she cursed herself to having forgotten her camera or even her phone inside the house.

The woman led the horse out its stall, the massive hooves pounding the ground as soon as they hit the pavement outside. She secured with a bland knot the reins to a hook on the wall, next to a hay bale from which the horse immediately began to graze happily and walked closer to Diana, patting Tahila's neck as she got next to her.

"Are you ready?" Jack asked. The other nodded excitedly, making her smile fondly. "She used to be so nervous and scared when she was a foal, I thought that you two might get along well." She winced, hardly suppressing a diverted chuckle when Diana glared back at her.

"Very funny." She spat drily, failing to keep her straight face as the other kept smiling.

"Sorry. Now, I'm serious." Jack suddenly said. "She rarely does that now, but if she bolts, hold on the neck and don't let go." She instructed firmly.

Diana nodded with a small frown.  
"I'll never let go, Jack."

The other stared blankly for a moment, then she narrowed her eyes.  
"Don't quote the Titanic." She glared, her voice devoid of emotion. "It didn't end up well."

Diana chuckled with her for a moment, again surprised that she'd caught the reference immediately and, apparently, without much effort; perhaps, on some level, they really were similar and liked the same things with the same passion.

"Alright," Jack begun, "left foot in the stirrup and-" Before she could even finish the sentence, Diana had already heaved herself up, sitting comfortably in the saddle and immediately grabbing onto the reins, in the correct way too, much to the other woman's surprise. Jack observed how her foot immediately searched for the stirrup and how her heel pushed slightly down as soon as it found the right support from the solid material. "You didn't tell me you could ride." She mumbled in a daze.

"You didn't ask." Replied the other with a chuckle, adjusting herself. "Really, just the basics, it's been decades, I don't remember much at all." She specified, trying so hard to calm the beating of her heart. She felt excited to be on the back of a horse again and Diana strived to push back the painful memories to better focus on the present and the adventure waiting for her; also, she had to admit, that it was prospecting a very romantic stroll.

"We'll take just a relaxing walk, nice and easy." Jack reassured as she pulled herself on her horse, feeling considerably less scared to take her riding now that she knew Diana had some knowledge. For a little walk on a familiar track, where nothing remotely dangerous could happen, that would be more than enough.

Before leaving the barn, Jack took a little time to secure her own helmet and find one that could fit Diana's head. In a matter of a couple of minutes, they were out in the nature, surrounded by green trees and the smell of hay that lingered into the air like a sort of tune for the nostrils. The warm breeze made the leaves sway gently all around, and suddenly Diana realized that what she would simply call silence, was nothing else than a melodic assemble of primordial noises, from the wind blowing, to the horse's hooves pounding the ground, to the distant chirp of some birds swirling up and down as they tried to reach for the clear sky.

They smiled fondly at each other as they walked side by side on the track, both almost scared to spoil that peaceful moment, for being together, alone in the wild was enough to fill their hearts, making them bask into a quiet sensation of completeness and pure delight.

Jack often averted her glance from the path, completely relying on the horse to follow the well-known track, to peek over at Diana with the corner of her eye, stealing some of her smiles as she watched the view with childish marvel; she even looked so young now, her gaze completely lost somewhere unknown, maybe even her mind was miles away, admiring the nature, thinking about the future even, about all the things they could become.

Jack was so caught with her secret admiration that she didn't notice the tiny snake crossing their path undisturbed, thing that, unfortunately, the horses saw clearly, acting upon it. While Tahila only flinched and stopped her walking, pounding her frontal hooves to scare the creature away, Xerxes reared up almost immediately, catching Jack off-guard.

She held promptly on its neck, but after losing grip on one stirrup, she thought better sliding off the animal and calm him from the ground. Jack attempted to get off, but her foot landed on a piece of uneven terrain, making her fall flat on her back.

As soon as she was laying on the grass, Xerxes came closer to her to inspect at her curiously, a somewhat innocent expression on its face as it smelled her shirt, now completely calm.

The woman saw the little grass snake slither away undisturbed and narrowed her eyes.

"Did you seriously have to do that?" She scolded the dark horse, immediately lifting her head to make sure that Diana was alright. Luckily, she had decided to dismount the horse herself, and was now hurrying to her with an alarmed grimace; Jack couldn't help but smile at Tahlia, which was already following her around like a puppy without any encouragement.

"Are you alright?" Diana asked, her face softening right away when she realized she wasn't in any pain, but rather smiling. "Nothing broken or bruised?"

"Just my ego." Replied the other with a chuckle, heaving herself up and dusting off her pants with her hands. She didn't feel particularly sore, but she would undoubtedly get some angry bruise tomorrow.

The woman patted the horse's neck, shaking a little her head. It was clear that Xerxes had just wanted to act on it, pretending it had been scared by a little snake when in reality it was simply its playful nature coming out in the wrong time, or maybe it had been a sudden need to move and stretch its muscles – she couldn't be sure.

Jack sighed loudly and stretched her neck, smiling happily when she noticed that they were much closer to one of her secret spots than she imagined. It would make Diana happy for sure, besides, she was still on an empty stomach since morning: her surprise would be certainly welcomed. "Come with me, let's rest these rascals." She proposed, sliding her arm between the rein to lead the horse easily as she removed her helmet. Diana did the same.

They crossed a green field of yellow grass, its blades wild and high, treasuring flowers and little insects buzzing quietly. They walked for a while, until they reached a small glade, under the shadow of an ample pear tree; the sweet scent coming from it immediately brought Jack back in time, reminding her of those summer evenings spent there eating those sugary fruits and spoiling her dinner, running away from her mother chasing her around on the back of one of her beloved horses.

She secured the reins of both of the horses to a low-hanging branch, one next to the other, so they could rest and graze some grass quietly, then, she stretched herself as far as she could, grabbing a couple of pears and handing one to Diana, who gladly accepted it.

Jack gave her a satisfied glance, rubbing once again her hands and the gesturing the foot of the tree, where knotted roots popped and disappeared into the ground, creating a messy pattern all around. There was a special crease in one point, small enough to fit her as a child, where she would curl up and often fall asleep; of course, neither of them could fit entirely in there now, but it was a comfortable seating nonetheless.

Diana, however, didn't seem too convinced at the thought of lounging there and was eyeing the roots with a suspicious glare.

"You have to get used to dirt, babe, otherwise you won't have a simple life here." Warned Jack with a smile.

Diana gestured vaguely her own pants and shirt, stained and covered in short horsehair as if that was enough material to prove the other she was wrong.  
"I'm okay with a little dirt, but that doesn't mean I want to roll in it." She stated. "Besides, suppose an ant or a spider crawls down the tree-trunk and ends up on my shirt?"

Jack thought of suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, at first, but she ended up doing it anyway, emphasizing theatrically on her grimace, and dropping herself on the ground first.  
"I'll take that risk on your behalf." She said, settling down more comfortably with her back on the hard trunk and then spreading her arm, gesturing Diana to join her.

Diana stared at her for a long minute, fully considering her proposal, carefully assaying all the pros and cons of that decision. Last time she actually played in a field without minding to get soiled she was just a child; yes, she was sore and wanted to eat her pear quietly and enjoy the moment, but she simply wasn't a country girl and, maybe, she would never be one.

She sighed at the end, deciding that she was already dirty enough to try and sit on the grass as well – also, Jack's body would shield her own from any additional filth.

She suspiciously lowered herself, curling up in the tight spot between Jack's leg and leaned her back on her chest.

It wasn't the first time they actually had endorsed into some more physical interactions than just kisses, they often drifted out to sleep on Diana's couch and found themselves entangled in some promiscuous positions, and yet it felt different, like that. She had to admit that it was a relaxing sensation to feel her arm softly laying on her hip and stomach protectively, her knees at each side of her legs like they were keeping her from any outer peril.

Diana beamed, sure that the other couldn't see her face from her position and started to nibble at her fruit, imitating Jack who was already half-through with hers. She thought if eating the peel could be healthy for a moment, then realized that they were out in nature, in a private property that simply didn't treat fruits but horses, hence it would be very hard that those pears would've been sprayed with some chemical staff.

"How did you learn how to ride?" Asked Jack out of the blue, her mouth still chewing the last bite.

Diana stilled, focusing for a moment on the sweet taste in her mouth rather than how to answer that question.

"Me and my-" She started, immediately biting her tongue, squeezing her eyes tight before proceeding. "I had a pony when I was little." She whispered without emotion. That simple question had brought her mind back in time without her allowance and she each time it happened, she despised it from the bottom of her heart.

Jack frowned but tried to ignore that little faltering in her voice, trying to seize the moment to try knowing more about her past. Maybe she would tell her more, even little hints, like crumbs so it would be up to her to piece together her story.  
"Back in France?"

"No." The other replied, almost drily.

Jack took a small breath, watching her, feeling her tensing within her hold, so she just let go. As much as she wanted to ask, it was better to let her be: she was clearly not ready to share that information or memory because it was too painful. Perhaps when she was ready, in her own times, she would share it with her.

Diana was easy to read, she was an open book, but when it came down to discuss her past, everything would become mysterious, like wrapped into an obscure mist. It was what made her so fascinating: so simple, predictable and yet so incredibly and beautifully complicated.

Jack squeezed her a little more tightly, offering her a reassuring embrace by throwing off the nibbled pear's core to hold her with both arms. When she finally felt her relax again, she pecked a quick kiss on her neck, smiling softly when she felt her squirm a little, her head tilting naturally to prevent any further teasing of her skin.

"Well, we should get back now." Proposed Jack, prompting her to stand up. She would've stayed there forever, but unfortunately, time was passing quickly and the sunset was already around the corner. "We both need to shower and get changed: mother wouldn't appreciate our attires at the dinner table."

Diana turned her head back, stretching her neck as far as she could so she could make their lips meet in a loving kiss. At the silent question coming from Jack, she just nodded and smiled, letting her know that all was well.


	7. Chapter 7 - Getting (things) Straight

For updates and extras, follow the dedicated blog on Tumblr: _Artemisia x Gorgo [meltemi-artemisiagorgo-300modern]_

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Chapter Seven – Getting (things) Straight

Diana took one last glance at the clock on the display of her phone before slipping into the shower to wash the dirt off her skin. She'd stood in the bedroom taking her sweaty clothes off as she waited for Jack to use the bathroom first.

The woman had claimed she'd be over in five minutes, which was precisely what it took her to get clean and exit the little room with her hair still wet and a towel around her neck. She had simply shrugged at the silent quizzical look Diana had thrown her, asking how on earth did she manage to do everything so quickly, but the other just walked off, leaving her some time alone in order to get small things done – probably she and Martha had to discuss things over the property.

Diana didn't ask to avoid some unfortunate misunderstanding and appear nosy, but on the other hand, she also forgot to ask Jack how she should behave around Martha in the first place. Yes, with Flynn she'd been very open and gleeful, and with her mother too, and yet somehow she felt that the mistress of the house wasn't that accepting toward her daughter's way of living, not to mention her little _friend_. Besides, the fact that she didn't even want to call Diana by her name didn't help either.

Maybe she was overthinking the matter again. Perhaps it was just an impression and Martha was the kind of woman who incarnated the proper English lady: cold at first, the one who needs time to warm up around strangers. Diana was meek and reserved most of the time – she was aware of her personality – so she shouldn't have had any problem bonding with an old-fashioned woman; after all, she felt like an old-fashioned person herself.

Diana closed her eyes, letting the warm water hit her skin, rolling soothingly over her naked body. Even in summer, she didn't fancy cold showers, much preferring the muscles relaxing under the warm pressure rather than the harsh awakening of her outer skin due to the freezing temperature of the water.

It was astonishing, to her, how Jack could've taken her shower in just five minutes; for her, it was unthinkable to wash in such little time. She needed way more. Perhaps she could blame it on the fact that whenever she was taking a shower or a bath – which she'd usually do in the winter – her mind took the initiative to wander on its own. Usually she would visualize herself somewhere back in time, her secret happy place in some ancient Greek village, with wheat to harvest and blue sky, even with the distant sound of the ocean hitting the shores and yet now... now her happy place didn't seem to be in Greece anymore.

Instead of the wheat, she could only smell the grass and wet soil, despite the bright blue, the sunny and warm sky didn't feel so hot on the skin and the sound of the ocean was replaced by a soothing chirping of birds; suddenly, her mouth began to water and making her taste a faint, sugary flavor that inevitably reminded her of the green fruit that Jack had offered her while being in the woman's special and secret spot.

Diana could easily feel herself sinking into the woman's embrace once again, the water on her skin wrapping her with the same warmth of Jack holding her underneath the shade of the pear tree.

She'd felt so lost, for a moment, after Jack had brought some of the memories from the past back to her, unwillingly of course, and then she had the power of washing all away with the same simplicity, with a hug, a squeeze, and a smile. It was as if Jack had blown on a burning, angry flame and put it to rest with a soft whisper.

Diana knew that she'd have to tell her everything, sooner or later. Jack was a good listener on top of being the best companion for a chat and she'd never seemed to judge anyone. All in good time, however, because she still didn't feel ready to expose that side of her life, that mysterious and distant and dark past that seemed to be so near whenever a memory came back to crowd her head. After all, it was nothing evil concerning her or her family, just painful and unfair, and unfortunately, even so common – how many she'd encountered during her life, with the same fate as hers?

She took a deep breath, fighting for a moment the discomfort of tiny drops of water entering her nostrils and mouth, and focused on her lungs, expanding as much as they could, storing the maximum amount of air they could for a split second, and then let it all out. The pain and sorrow were gone.

Diana blinked, turning off the flow and wringing her hair to get rid of the water excess before stepping out of the shower. She felt fresh after wearing her traveling clothes and then the riding outfit, which was of a considerable ticker material than the one she'd use for the summer, which had made her sweaty and uncomfortable with all the dirt and dust they both caught during the ride. Country life wasn't for her, and yet, she'd have to get used to it.

She dried her skin and slid on an evening dress, not too elegant nor too casual since Jack had only bothered to wear a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt, which, for some reason, didn't feel the proper outfit a woman like Martha would appreciate.

Diana couldn't help it: she wanted so desperately to make a good impression on the matriarch of the family. The mere thought of someone hating her or secretly despising something about her made her go crazy, the anxiousness kicking in, even stronger than usual – she couldn't have that during the first dinner at the Barlings'.

As she put on her make-up, staring back at the reflection the squared mirror gave her, she thought that maybe not only the appearance would make the difference in winning Martha's sympathies. It was like a meeting at the museum all over again, where she would dress nice because it made her feel confident, and gave her enough strength and courage to talk and act like a proper human being for the time necessary. In the eyes of the others, she looked bold and out of reach, surely Jack's mother would appreciate that quality that she seemed to value in herself and look in the others, clearly resenting her daughter for lacking that feature.

Diana took a deep breath as she put everything away, wiping and cleaning each surface she'd touched like a serial killer would erase any trace of her passage on the crime scene and eventually walked out of the bathroom. She didn't even know how much time did it take her to leave that room, nor bothered to check on the clock on the dresser as she tiptoed barefoot to reach the carpet and slip on her heeled shoes, finally feeling like herself again – she hardly even remembered the last time she wore flat shoes outside her apartment, maybe never that weren't slippers; did she own flats in the first place?

She got spooked when, still caught up in her freewheeling thinking, the door opened abruptly, revealing Jack smiling broadly at her while her eyes quickly scanned the new attire, mutely apprising the view.  
"Are you ready?" The woman asked gleefully. "It's almost seven."

"Yes." Diana replied, slightly leaning on one side as she struggled to put on her earrings. She suddenly felt unquiet, imagining that Martha was the type of person who hated stragglers, most of all when the cause of the delay was the guest who she clearly still wasn't too fond of.

"Why so elegant?" Asked Jack with a bright smile, grabbing her hand as soon as she finished with the final touches, dragging along the corridor and down the stairs.

"You told me your mother wouldn't appreciate a casual attire at dinner." The other frowned, feeling suddenly confused.

"I was talking about muddy boots and dirty shirts." She replied with a giggle.

Diana sighed, silently glaring at her for not being too specific. She should've guessed that an everyday outfit was alright too since Jack was wearing something so informal, but then again she always dressed casually – except for that dinner with her boss Diana had begged to escort her to – and that was perhaps the lowest profile dress she'd brought with her.

She was glad, however, when they arrived in the dining room, and they found Flynn with a white cotton shirt and black trousers, while Martha was wearing a knee-length skirt and a sleeveless shirt of the same crème color; suddenly, Jack became the black sheep of the group. Not that she seemed to mind or even notice.

The dinner table looked incredibly refined, with candles and flowers in the middle and entrées already settled down in the plates. It was like it was coming straight up from a classic movie, with glasses and whine and polished silver cutlery that made immediately brought up the familiar, festivity vibes. Diana hadn't felt those in a very long time.

As Martha disappeared into the kitchen without even noticing the other two arriving, Flynn welcomed them in, showing off theatrically the seating organizations.

"Is this you everyday dinner?" Diana asked astonished. No more wonder where Jack got her cooking passion from.

"Mother likes to show off her skills, so yes." Jack replied promptly. "It's probably one of the rare aspects that might make me miss home." She chuckled.

"The other is me?" Teased Flynn as he sat down on the right side of the table, right next to the head, which was clearly empty waiting for the mistress of the house.

"No, the other is Xerxes." Retorted Jack immediately, laughing with him. "And the other horses, of course."

The woman sat down at the opposite side of her brother, while Diana took the only remanent seat to her left. She was glad that the other head of the table hadn't been arranged and she'd been placed next to Jack because, first, she hated being placed there, feeling the same sort of unwanted responsibility toward the whole table, second, she would be right next to the one who could give her support and soothe her spirit in case her composure would be put to test, and third, she would've been spared the awkward situation of having to face Martha from across the table for the entire time.

When Martha came back from the kitchen with a bowl of salad, richly dressed with other colorful vegetables, she put in in the middle of the table right next to the flowers and Diana took a moment to stare at those two pieces, almost blending with one another. If it weren't for the wooden fork and spoon, she'd hardly say which was which.

She was also glad that, being supposedly being Anglican, she was spared the uncomfortable moments of praying before dinner. She found that use reassuring, in a way, a habit that screamed family tradition and for the same reason put her in the unquiet position of reminiscence and long lost feelings. She wasn't even sure she was religious anymore, the thought of a superior being replaced with the more tangible awareness of fate that moved the strings of her life and now, after meeting with Jack, the concept of luck that had started to enter her conscience, but nothing more than that.

Jack made her jump on her seat by slightly kicking her leg under the table, cutting off completely the flow of thoughts that was currently streaming in her mind.

Diana looked around for a moment, her fork dangling as a playing stick over the plate clinking against the china. She _knew_ that Flynn was staring at her, trying to figure out what was going on inside the weird guest's mind as he peacefully chewed on his food almost as if was watching some entertaining show on the television, while Martha was glaring at her with the same eyes, bearing also a shade of judgment that would certainly put her off – she could only rely on Jack to save her from that situation: did someone ask her something or make a remark? Was she supposed to answer or comment on some topic? What a terrible moment did her mind choose to get lost, her flawed mechanism of defense once again putting her into trouble.

"She's a curator at the British Museum." Jack prompted her, talking as if it was the most natural thing and nothing strange had happened, sweeping away all the waiting silence that had fallen down with a swift movement, as nothing strange had happened.

"Really?" Commented Martha with only a half of smile, trying to sound impressed, but failing miserably. Like a mother trying to praise an infant child for a hideous drawing, she settled down on her chair and faked and interested smile, while in reality, she was just studying her guest. Diana could feel her small eyes piercing her soul and she suddenly felt naked, put on the stakes for someone to judge her deeds. "Are you a historian?"

"Yes." Smiled Diana politely, swallowing despite not having touched her food yet. "I'm specialized in ancient artifacts, especially Greek."

"And now she's running the Persian area too." Interjected Jack with a broad smile, which was contagious for everyone except for her mother.

"Well, yes. Although it's not finished completely, it's opened to the public."

"Where did you guys meet?" Flynn suddenly jumped in, looking genuinely curious as he stared intensely ad Diana, maybe deciding if everything they were saying was true; all the girls he knew were interested in the country life and travels and other rare cases would go to study abroad and end up with some fancy jobs and perfect lives; Diana was different: she looked so refined and cultured, out of the place sometimes and even so unreachable. They talked about museums and city life and he could only thought of how distant that world appeared to him. That girl could be his type, but he would've never made her happy – his sister, on the other hand, was the perfect combination of the two worlds, the one who could maybe make her fall in love with Kylronan: both equally loving going back home to London as much as loving visiting the country for the holidays.

Maybe he was thinking too far ahead of times and it was a first for him, since his sister had never been too keen of commitment, and yet it had been natural to think of the future. Maybe he was unwillingly wishing to see Diana again, to have her around for a while, sticking with the family for a little more – or even forever. Honestly, he'd never seen his sister's eyes sparkle like that. Their mother had simply had to deal with it, whether she liked it or not.

"We met at the opening night of the museum, for the said Persian wing." Replied Jack with a somewhat dreamy smile that made Diana's cheek accidentally turn reddish. "I was commissioned the cake and she was about to make her speech."

It was like reliving it all over again. Diana staunchly wished that no one would ask for more detail, fearing the telling of her panic attack before the event from which Jack had pulled her out with kind words and unexpected support. She could feel the same grip at the pit of her stomach, the thrill of the night and the excitement that was brewing inside her, stronger than a storm, as she bid her goodbyes to her collogues and boss after the party was over, eager to accept Jack's invitation and join her into her ship late at night to talk and taste pastries; she could also feel her heart drop down as Jack had attempted to kiss her, as she suddenly awoke from a slumber she wasn't aware of, her eyes blinking at the new world, aware that she couldn't go back now, like a magic spell done to her – like sleeping beauty, but in reverse: she was awake and she would stay like that from now on, her life changed in a snap.

"Charming." Was all that came from the head of the table, her mother chewing unimpressed on a small bit of food, which she cut directly with knife and fork from an appetizer that could be swallowed whole.

It was a secret code, clearly readable, that Martha used to let the others know that she was getting bored with the topic of the conversation or that, maybe, she just wanted to readdress the conversation into another direction, perhaps even take the lead, which was exactly what she did. It was like everybody knew that Martha wasn't really interested to be informed on how they met and, almost as if she'd turned into an open book, nor the nature of their relationship if it wasn't a plain and innocent friendship – which wasn't, clearly – and if that was that case, she would very much prefer to remain in her sought ignorance.

"It's all wonderful, Mrs. Barling." Chirped Diana suddenly, breaking the awkward silence that had descended upon them after Martha's dry interruption. She was experiencing a sudden rush of warmness at the pit of her stomach, but she was glad she'd talked and spare everyone else another unpleasant remark.

Diana wasn't used to such meals, if not at business dinner where she didn't even eat much due to her internal distress. At home, when she was not in a rush and wasn't feasting on her hot cup noodles, she would order some fancy dishes off a delivery app, not bothering to get ripped off. But eating alone in her apartment, maybe even straight out of the box, gave the food a different taste, somehow, compared to have dinner with other people, all reunited around a table. She missed it, sometimes more than others.

"Thank you." Martha smiled, suddenly perked up. "So, I'd like to talk about the party we'll have in two days." She said, trying not to break the argument in without specifying it was for her own birthday out of politeness, when in reality it was obviously a vain party all people in the county used to do – because it was tradition, because it was a good excuse to socialize and brag about some accomplishment, playing the childish game of my horse is bigger than your horse, quite literally too. For as unpleasant it might've sounded, deep down, they all enjoyed those kinds of parties, so instead of ending the tradition, they always found new occasion to organize more; almost as if that was the only kind of entrainment they had in all the county.

"What about the party?" Asked Jack almost unimpressed, filling up her now empty plate with some roast meat and salad. When she finished, she passed the bowl over to Diana. "You've organized the same things for decades."

There was a light giggle of approval from the other side of the table, where Flynn was trying to cover his reaction behind his napkin, to which Martha replied with a scowl.

"This time I invited more people." The woman said with a satisfied smirk and she graciously cut her meat, slowly as if she was performing some sort of surgery on her chicken to get a perfect bite. "We had a lot of new neighbors coming in the county since last time you visited."

"Great. Some new faces at last." Commented Jack, suddenly interested.

Whenever she thought of home, she got that frozen image of a place that never changes despite the years passing by. The same properties with the same people living in them, the same fairs, the same trees, only bigger or greener or covered in white during the winter – it was a reassuring place, never moving forward until now. Changing had never scared her, but somehow she felt like she had to resent that desperate try of catching up with the rest of the world.. she didn't; Jack's life was moving forward, so it was only natural that everything else was doing the same.

"It's not the best part, yet." Flynn interjected, a teasing grin on his lips.

"Spill it." Blurted out Jack, suddenly sounding irked. It was clearly something that concerned her personally since her brother was acting so weird and her mother, usually direct, was taking her time to introduce the real topic of the conversation.

"Jacklin," Martha said, and with only that, her daughter sighed, mentally putting down all her weapons. That woman seemed to have that kind of power, the distant respect of a long lost Victorian parent who demanded respect and obedience over the smallest thing. They seemed to be closed and then bump into each other to push one another away whenever a difficult topic was raised, like two magnets suddenly facing the wrong direction, creating an invisible force that made it impossible for them to meet again. It was almost fascinating to watch. "Lots of the new families have children, unmarried sons caught up with their careers."

At that, Jack leaned back on her chair to roll her eyes and sigh loudly, expressing all her disapproval. She folded her arms on her chest, eyes suspiciously her half-eaten meal as if she suddenly lost her appetite.

"Also Edward was back for a few days, so I invited him too."

"You did what now?" Jack cried out, throwing a killed glance at her mother without even realizing it. She tried to dissimulate with a wince, but it was already too late.

Edward was a boy who dreamed to be her sweetheart since high-school; the boy was so clueless in his infatuation that he firmly fought whoever told him the truth and tried to persuade him _not_ to go after the sapphic girl that regularly beat all the boys at PE. He was the perfect boy from next door – which in their case it meant more than 2 miles away – with brown hair and languid blue eyes that had the best grades everywhere and graduated with the highest possible marks. A dream for everyone, a perfect suitor – except that he was a male and Jack just couldn't ignore that fact he lacked everything that could make him appear attractive to her eyes: beautiful features, grace, a bosom and the absence of a slack piece of meat dangling between his legs – everything that made a girl, a girl.

"He asked about you the other day, right Flynn?" Her mother said, jerking her head to the side, seeking for her son's endorsement.

"He did." He confirmed, sheepishly, with a wince. "With his fake french r, he asked _weh weh_ you and what _weh_ you up to." Flynn added, making a bad impression which both supported Martha's story and Jack's unfortunate position, making everybody know that he was on his sister's side.

"He cares about you." Martha sighed loudly, glaring at her son to make him shush. "You should give him a chance."

"I won't." Jack said, resolute. Diana was peeking discreetly at her with the corner of her eye, and she imagined she would've slammed her hands on her table out of frustration if that gesture wasn't simply over the line.

"If not him, there are others you can meet at the party," Her mother went on, completely unaffected. "one is a lawyer and another a surgeon – I think, or a pediatrician, I don't remember. The thing is, there will be plenty of suitors that already showed interest in knowing my eldest daughter." She said with some sort of pride which Jack clearly didn't share.

Diana found herself breathing through her mouth, her lips growing dry as the air swept through them, taking the moisture away. Her heart was pounding, a strange feeling of trepidation twisting her guts, as she discovered that it wasn't easy hearing about possible men buzzing around Jack – _her_ Jack – selling their own lives as they tried to impress her, their primordial, simple brain only thinking about making a good match, settling their futures to satisfy their mothers' expectations, of a nice wedding, kids, or how her lips would taste or her skin would feel against her own. Would they be entitled to those thoughts, then? Those which had been entirely hers, until now? Or there had been others, wondering the same, as they waited to meet the Barlings' daughter at a fancy birthday party which served perhaps as a cover for another kind of party, trembling alone in their bed, at night, dreaming to be chosen?

Was she jealous? As a friend, would she be entitled to feel that way? Was it still a mystery that she might _not_ be just a friend? Could she stop pretending and show her discomfort? Besides, a part of her brain couldn't stop thinking that, if only she were a guy, Martha would certainly appreciate more her position as a museum curator, the job would be halfway done, everything would've been easier – but the thing was that she just wasn't a man, and thank god she wasn't, because otherwise, she couldn't stay at Jack's side in the first place.

"Mother stop," Jack growl with a low voice, one that wouldn't allow a talkback. "you're making everybody uncomfortable."

Diana could only silently agree, Flynn was struggling to mask his own discomfort behind some ironic remarks, but deep down he was feeling sorry for his sister, who was only trying to live her life in peace – he could only imagine what would feel like if their mother would try to force every breathing girl in the right age into his arm just for the sake of a good marriage, a nice couple to stare at and envy at the fairs and nothing more, some dull accomplishment for a lifetime of hollowness.

"What did I say now?" Martha asked, stubbornly choosing to ignore her daughter's irritation.

"I won't marry a man, mother." Jack stated, pronouncing clearly each letter of every word as if she was talking to a child, as she was saying the secret code to unlock some ability in a video game and finally get her mother to understand, once and for all. "I came out to you when I was fourteen." She reminded her.

Diana could almost see the moment flashing into everyone's eyes: probably it was at the dinner table, or maybe right after school. She could see them perching on the kitchen stools eating their mid-afternoon snacks, Flynn barely old enough to get the whole talking as Jack told Marta she might like a girl from her Algebra class. She could see Martha glaring at her, those small eyes throwing unwanted judgment for years because it wasn't just a phase, until she chose to ignore the problem, pretending she'd heard nothing in the first place, that afternoon simply erased from history.

Just as if she was living those moments again, shutting down for a moment as those words swooped away over her head without even touching her, Martha shrugged her shoulders and sighed, pretending once again to have heard, but not really.

"Well," She continued with the same, unfeeling voice of a mother lecturing a bratty behavior from her child. The thing was odd, and even Diana could feel it, because none of her children were little, still. "if you want my opinion,"

"I don't." Jack murmured, but her words were almost immediately overlapped by her mother's voice, continuing with her talking as if she wasn't really expecting an answer, not a disrespectful interruption.

"I think it's a waste." Martha stated, her eyes down, fixed on the plate as she feared that, lifting her glance, she would meet her daughter's and lose all her words. "You're acting recklessly and selfish."

"Selfish?" Cried out Jack, dropping her fork, which clinked loudly against the side of the china, bouncing twice, three times. "How am I selfish?"

"I don't know what to do with you anymore! You're 35 already and you won't have that age forever."

"Oh Lord."

"Can't you even think about it?"

The lecturing voice of the woman, ordering her daughter to hear about the possible suitors she'd found, had turned into a begging, desperate request. Was it really so important, for her, to live according to what other people might think? Follow a tight schedule society had provided for wealthy women: get a degree – which was optional, even – get married with a fine match, have kids, going to party and brag about her perfect family and then return to her empty home, contemplating the dullness of her life until the end of her days.

Jack refused to live like that. Why couldn't her mother just understand that it wasn't the life she wanted? Not only because she would have gone crazy, but because she sought love elsewhere.

"I don't have to think about it." She retorted, staring at her mother until she finally lifted her head. "What are you trying to do? I'll marry a man you chose for me, then what? You'll be satisfied?" She asked, without even blinking, her jaw tightened, her fist still gripping the handle of the knife. "You really want me to be unhappy for the rest of my life?"

There was something stingy in those words. Diana looked over Flynn, trying to figure out if it was just a sensation or a good intuition; he was staring into his own plate, seemingly contemplating his green lump of salad, the muscles of his jaw moving under the thick skin of his cheeks, only faintly smeared with some short beard.

"Jacklin, you can't live in your fantasy world forever." Martha told her, her voice calm, flat, almost without emotion. "You can't always have what you want, sometimes you have to make sacrifices."

"Well, I refuse to live like that." Whispered back the other.

"You're a Barling." Said Martha at one point, her voice was deadly, cold. "You're expected to get married and live a proper life, you have responsibilities and you owe it to your name."

"I will marry, just not with a man- perhaps, someday." Replied Jack, a sneering grimace bending the corner of her mouth. She didn't mean to be disrespectful – or maybe yes, because she had had enough – her main goal to be heard and finally be understood. Why was it so difficult for her mother to accept her and her life? Was her education really that rooted inside her brain? Why couldn't she just let go and embrace her whole, rejoicing together of something so pure and exciting like her meeting with Diana? Why couldn't Martha accept that her heart leaped every time she looked into her eyes? Shouldn't her mother be happy for her, for finding such a perfect companion to share her days with?

"Don't be ridiculous now, Jacklin-"

"I'm not being ridiculous, mother." She interrupted. "I'm telling you the same things I've been telling you the past twenty years of my life. You've got Flynn to play the perfect son, sell him out to some dull daddy's girl who will make him look good in the wedding pictures and make his life miserable from that day on."

"And I've made myself clear that I'll only marry the girl of my dreams." Interjected Flynn with a small voice, clearly hating to be involved but not resenting his sister to have done such thing.

"Why are you alright with him, then?" Cried Jack out, wide-eyed. Her mother seemed to be battled between replying with the obvious remark of Flynn being a man – which allowed him much more freedom – or even the more obvious one of her only daughter being gay. Martha decided to stay silent, sighing frustratedly. "I'm done for today." Concluded Jack, unable to bear those tedious and clueless talks anymore.

Jack stood abruptly up from her chair, pushing it back with her legs.

"Let's forget about it for today, shall we?" Martha proposed with only a dim voice, crumpling up her napkin to put it on the table. She looked worn out, mortified, maybe even willing to make amends and sincerely forgetting all about the fight – Diana tried to imagine what was going on in her head – and yet Jack was done for the moment.

"How about forever?" The woman replied dryly. "I won't change – I don't have a switch I can turn on and off to please you, mother. Sooner or later, you have to accept it." She concluded. "I'm going to my room."

"But wait, I've made you your favorite: charlotte russe." Begged Martha, halfway up on her chair in the desperate try to keep her daughter at the dinner table.

"We'll have it for breakfast." Jack offered.

Diana looked over Flynn once again to capture some hints: he was half-smiling; like a secret code between the two, they seemed to start mutually making amends – each family had their own ways.

"I need your help to set up the tent outside for the party, don't oversleep." Martha warned.

"I'll try my best." Replied Jack, a little dryly still, but considerably calmer.

When she turned, she managed a reassuring smile as she offered her hand to Diana, urging her to get up and pulling her gently up the stairs, so they could both seek shelter and finally sink into the quiet and safeness of her room. It had been a long day.

🏛️

Despite having barely anything inside her stomach, Diana wasn't feeling hungry at all. She was used to skipping meals and yet the thought of a nice, steaming dish would pop up in her mind whenever she couldn't sit properly down for supper – no, she wasn't feeling anything. As if her stomach was completely turned upside-down, unable to feel the hunger pains so gripped into that iron grasp as it was.

That conversation had made her nervous, her body shaking with trepidations for something she didn't do and yet had affected her intensely. She knew that Jack and her mother might've gotten through the same arguments again and again, that none of them was really mad or would lose sleep over that conversation, and yet something had clicked inside Diana, with the painful awareness of having been the witnessed of a private matter – directly involved, but without the chance to speak up.

Jack had thrown herself on her bed, covered her face with her arms and was breathing hard through the narrow space between them, letting her back muscles relax and loose against the fluffy surface of the duvet.

Diana couldn't do the same. Even though she hadn't been the daughter who had inevitably disappointed her mother, she was feeling agitated, guilty perhaps, because she didn't say anything, because she missed those bickering between generations, because those two things couldn't go together.

She'd never thought that it would be easy, of course, but at the same time, she thought that it wouldn't bring back so many memories, that she wouldn't be affected in such way in a fight which, apparently, had nothing to do with her.

After a few moments of nervous tapping of heels, moving from the sharp thud against the wood to the soft muffled sound against the carpet, Jack lifted her head from the bed and stared at the woman with a frown.

The last thing she wanted was to have her put in that awkward situation. She only wanted her to have a nice, relaxing dinner with her family – she should've stayed silent? Endured all her mother's obnoxious demands for the sake of peace? She couldn't help it, those desperate tries to get Jack to marry a man drove her mad.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that." The woman offered, slowly sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes following the other as she paced up and down in front of the vanity. "It wasn't about you, you know."

"But it _is_ about me now, because I am here." Diana retorted, her voice cracking through the loudest whisper she could manage.

"You're fine, my mother doesn't hold against you – nor me, not entirely, that is." Jack said, trying to sound reassuring and calm. "You'll see, tomorrow will be like nothing has happened. It's always like that."

"It's just-" Diana sighed loudly, leaving her half-sentence hanging without proper closure as if she hadn't really thought about an ending.

"It's just what?" Jack urged, sliding down the bed to walk closer to her, holding her elbows, her eyes staring at her unquiet face. If nothing, she stopped her nervous pacing with her own body as a physical obstacle along her path. Jack studied her: a part of her brain was still down in the dining room, playing those moments of tension again and again, as if she hadn't had a real closure over the conversation herself. "What's bothering you so much?"

"I don't know." She sighed, half-lying too afraid to really tell what was going through her mind, so she shook her head dismissively, her glance lost somewhere, clueless, resigned.

Jack didn't buy it. She offered her a smile, pulling her invisible mask off with a gentle squeeze on her shoulders; she wanted to hear, she wanted to erase that unpleasant experience, if that was possible, make it up to Diana in every way she could. She had to try, at least.  
"Of course you know." She nodded once, encouraging her to talk. "Go ahead."

"What are we doing?" Diana said – or better exhaled – her voice worn out, hopeless, almost exasperated. It wasn't something Jack could either foreseen nor fully comprehend.

"What do you mean?" Suddenly feeling defensive, her arms dropping to her sides.

"You and me, what are we?" She said, her eyes sparkling with utter dismay. "Friends? Friends who kiss? What?"

"Why are you asking that?"

"Because," Diana paused, her eyes shooting up at the ceiling as if she was seeking a way to continue her speech there. When she found it, she looked down into Jack's eyes. "at dinner I felt like I should've said something, but I didn't know if I could. I didn't know – what my position was, or if I was entitled." She sighed. "I didn't know if I should've pretended to be someone specific."

"You don't have to pretend anything, babe."

"I didn't know how was I supposed to act and at first I thought I could simply be your friend, just to test the water, but then it got all so intense – I couldn't stand it." Jack continued to study her, even after her lids fell down, shielding her bye eyes from hers. "I wanted to say something but also fear I would make everything worse and then I realized that I felt that way, and that I didn't find the courage, because I don't even know what we are – truly."

"That's it?" Jack asked with a soft voice.

When Diana opened back her eyes, she found a smirk waiting for her. The last thing she was expecting after all that speech, was a crooked smile, almost an amused one.

"_That's it_?" The woman echoed, with a different tone, her eyebrows shooting up, almost touching the line of hair on her forehead.

"Do you really have to put a label on everything?" Jack was still smiling, fondly now. She couldn't help thinking at her office at the museum: everything perfectly organized, the books in alphabetical order, the little statues and relics settled into a sort of growing scale of sizes, each with its golden label that read all the important information. Maybe she did the same with people, with relationships with people, even with herself – and why was she surprised? It was one of the many odd things that she'd learned to accept and cherish, one of the many things that made Diana herself.

Diana, in fact, felt that only half-hidden vain of fondness that made her unable to feel angry, not even if she tried.  
"It helps me keep things in order." She confirmed, her own mouth moving to produce a hesitant smile.

"Fine." Jack exhaled, gave in. "You want a name for our thing? How about girlfriends?"

It was like her heart had stopped, for a moment. She thought of that word so many times now, but never once let it roll on her tongue or spell it with her lips mutely, afraid she would spoil something. Now, hearing out lout, coming from Jack's mouth, so familiar and yet so distant, made something click within her chest, like a small cog struggling to move between other cogs, until it finally found its pace, settling in the right position, serving its purpose after years of unconscious slumber.  
"Really?"

"My God, Diana." Jack couldn't help a giggle escaping her lips at that. "Weren't we already? Do I have to ask you?" Sometimes that woman could sound and look so naive and innocence with her behavior that it was astonishing. She imagined herself as a little girl scribbling away on a piece of wrinkled paper in the classroom, writing that big question down with sloppy handwriting, drawing two squares with the captions _yes_ and _no_ for her to check with a cross. "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

The woman stared at the other's green eyes, which sparkled with anticipation, as Jack took her face between her slender, slightly rough hands and smiled. It was like she'd heard a silent promise only just made. Diana didn't talk: no words had been needed.


End file.
